by Peter Menkin

Created on: April 08, 2009

Round Is Not A Pregnant Shape

For about 8 years I worked off and on at the department store Sears on a part time basis.It was mainly on. A few poems about observations while on duty as a sales clerk were written. Herewith, a poem from 2002 on what I saw at Sears. There were only a few of these poems, originally posted on the Atlantic Monthly Writer's Workshop (now defunct). I am sorry I did not write more of them, as 7 years later I like this one and another.

One can't call two or three poems a series, and because I keep poems I've written on my computer, I will search to see if there are more. Some people think it unfair to be revising or looking at poems 7 or 8 years old. One poet remarked to me that this wasn't so unusual, to keep an image or a sense of a poem in ones mind for years.

My way is to return to work written sometimes as long ago as 8 years or even nine, and revise. I find at times that I begin to like the poem, where before I did not like it so much or found it lacking. I do hope you like this one as it is an amusement. The subject deals with the wonderful and mysterious shape of a woman when pregnant. For certain, this is a grand experience in pregnancy, and without doubt noticeable to all. Keep in mind when reading the poem, that this aspiring poet observed a good many, many woman who passed through the store as if in parade. Part of the wonder of the observation, in this case, is there are a great many pregnant individuals, the species of humankind is multiplying all the time. At least it seems that way, and this is a happy reality.

Now I am not so young as I was, and it is pleasing at my age of 60 plus to observe the young. This is not meant in a way of indulgence, but true admiration. So many good things attend the birth of a child, and one is the time of waiting for the birth. This special time, called gestation, is hopefully healthy and memorable-for all concerned.

So as I say, herewith the poem:

Round is Not a Pregnant Shape

Three pregnant women last night at the store. Each carried her self, proving round is not a pregnant shape.

I watch the pregnant women as they shop, and walk, move about with children or alone.

This is part of my store duties, I tell myself: Pregnant woman watching.

There are ovals, and mountains, abundance, and full. There are heavier, and moving, ripe and blooming. Some are a little bit more.

Amid this there is something new, alive, awakening to two and wonderment moving towards birth.

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