poetry by j matthew waters

starting from scratch

if I were to start from scratch
I wouldn’t even know my mother

I would be a microbe
either in someone’s gut
or on the ocean floor
a mere figment
of an imagination
I can’t begin to comprehend

if I were to be reborn
what are the chances
I’d be back in the same womb
the one that nourished me
the first & last time
before exploding into this world

january two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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