SEAMLESS BEAD

Smooth and cool 
     with a streak 
the color of clouds 
     and fog 

broken
     by a coastline, 
the dove’s egg
     because I was 
pregnant,

     seemed to be 
a gift wrapped  
     in sticks 
     
that fell away
     and I worried 
that a crow might
     carry away 

or winds lift
     this wisp
of would-be belly 
     and bone: 

shucked pea,
     its heart 
still beating.