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What surprised me the most
when I first touched
my premature twin sons
was how close my palms
could get to their hearts
thrumming against tender cages.
Their skin too sensitive to stroke,
I just held them close,
chest against heaving chest,
almost heart to heart,
and I breathed close to tears
hoping they would not die.
I hoped not against hope,
knowing that if they lived
their bodies would grow
more secretive of their hearts,
followed by other secrets
making them only themselves.
No, I hoped for hope,
that they may live and grow,
even if it is a growing distance
from me, but so they know
and hold close other hearts
hoping they would not die.
From Suddenly Slow (Handtype Press, 2008)
Used with the author’s permission.
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John Lee Clark was born deaf and became blind in adolescence. His work has appeared in many publications and he is the author of a chapbook and editor of the definitive anthology, Deaf American Poetry, published by Gallaudet University Press. Currently, John is co-editor, with his wife, of Clerc Scar (www.clercscar.com), an arts site for the signing community. He lives in St. Paul, Minnesota, with his wife and three sons.
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