(Some free verse … for my son, Dillon)
March
You were tardy aborning,
a day late and mad
— —as a March hare;
it took a suction cap
to coax you
into the world.
Pushed to fight or flight,
a blood-slick wild thing,
you came roaring,
and wailing,
raising a ruckus
to life.
It was storming
that afternoon,
the month of March
blowing up a blizzard,
the foothills whipped
blinding white.
I remember your shock:
how you grimaced
through the introductions,
how you blinked
against the merciless
light of day.
I remember your ruddy fists, too—
duked and flailing
before a wizened face—
as if you expected it:
the hard fight
to follow;
As if you understood:
that you would go out
— —like a lamb;
that everyone here
begins a death march
aborning.
About jaurquhart
Jack Andrew Urquhart was born in the American South. Following undergraduate work at the University of Florida, Gainesville, he taught in Florida's public schools. He earned a Master of Arts degree in English, Creative Writing, from the University of Colorado at Boulder, where he was the winner of the Harcourt Brace Jovanovich Award for Fiction (1991). His work has appeared online at Clapboard House Literary Journal, Crazyhorse Literary Journal, and Standards: The International Journal of Multicultural Studies. He is the author of So They Say, a collection of self-contained, inter-connected stories and the short story, They Say You Can Stop Yourself Breathing. Formerly a writing instructor at the University of Colorado’s Writing Program, Mr. Urquhart was, until 2010, a senior analyst for the Judicial Branch of California. He resides in Washington State.
Every Man Jack ... 
Jack, you really are a great poet. Please write more and think of publishing a collection!