The night before

I have not met you yet
but I know
you will be here
in the morning.
I am waiting.
So are you.
Will you remember
your creation
made of trust and travelling?
I see you on the boat
crossing the boundary
from sea to land.

You will be whole,
wholly here and
I will also be more.
This evening
stands alone
as the night,
the moment before,
I became a mother.

Illness

I open my front door
and an eerie wind
forecasts there is no mistake.
Tomorrow I will leave
the house again
and the day after
and after.

I wish I had a song
to take with me
on the train, to the hospital
but the tunnels
underground are silent
so I close my eyes
and hear the faraway.

Ellen Carter is a poet and fiction writer who has been a member of the Baltimore-Washington writing community since the 1970’s. She studied poetry with Grace Cavalieri at Antioch College and received her MA from the JHU Writing Seminars. She has worked as a learning specialist and writing teacher and lives in College Park with her family.

Featured image in this post is, “Metro-Cammell KCRC Rolling Stock” by Metro-Cammell, licensed via creative commons 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons.