SCAN
Christopher Hedley-Dent

There was nothing at first
in the tonal fuzz. Then
a high-horizoned speckled snowscape

and near the bottom
a cave,
where something stirred.

When the picture changed,
we could make out the skull,
its delicate drawing,

the momentary illusion
of eyes like an insect's
and as it shied away

the arabesque of the spine,
vertebrae articulate
as teeth on a zip.

The cursor came, its line of worry
stretched between points
at the back of the neck

and all the time I'm thinking
that this is how far
our love has come

from some secretive flow
in our fulfillment
and remember the small-hour thoughts;

the inconvenience,
the well made plans upset,
fear and the sliver of choice

dissolving on the tongue,
our misconception,
no small point to obliterate.

And here, now
our child intact, please God
and thriving,

our hopes hanging
on the smallest
of measurements.

Smiling, she turns off the screen
and just before the image fades,
a small arm waves.