From inside the hospital, I dreamt of this view, the one from outside our kitchen door, all the way down from the hills to the coast…
and when the midwife, the soft motherly one, not the young brisk one, stroked my hand and whispered that I should imagine I was giving birth at Poetto, by the sea, I saw this stretch of shoreline in my mind’s eye…
and the curves of the Gulf of Angels calmed me just enough to keep my breath flowing in waves, deep and down inside, instead of escaping out into the room, beating against the shutters like the wild wings of screaming gulls…
just long enough for you to make you way outside.