morning fog a midwife wipes the eyes of a newborn —Andrew Riutta
My beautiful daughter, Issabella, was born on a foggy, rainy morning in the Coastal mountains of Oregon. With the help of three midwives, she entered this world right inside the cabin my wife and I were living in at the time.

a brilliant haiku!
Very good, indeed.
Welcome to Tinywords, and with such an evocative haiku too! ;-)
it wass boring and dull it sucked! but that the truth
Andrew,
I've been admiring you work for a while and it's nice to have the opportunity to commend you on it.
My wife is a practicing doula and studying midwifery so I am thrilled to see you give birth to this in the haiku(senryu) world.
the color
of our infant daughter
spring sunrise
ps. our firstborn is Isabella...
great job andrew!
Beautiful. It evokes a sense of serene joy (for me, at least).
What a lovely moment you have evoked.
My first child was my sixth pregnancy.
At last -
my newborn is here
I kiss her newborn toes
nice poem andy.
juan, would you please teach me the finer points of the english language?
paul
thanks andrew-
of late, tinywords parallel my life.
my birth, on a sunday, was heralded by a midwife.
my mother's plan to attend a friend's wedding derailed by my expected though somewhat early arrival.
-
winter rain's patter
shaking the tin roof--
my wails
Enjoyed this Andrew, and good luck with your book of free verse.
Collin
Paul, you made me laugh and laugh. Laughter is the heart of mankine. Thank you.
i pondered juan's words; initially, not because they were not structurally sound, but why the dislike. i abruptly(without notice to prepare my mine for the event) moved on.
now, i'm flooded with thoughts; in addition to the validity of there being a "juan". if his words are (truthful), i wonder if he understands the childbirth scenario; specially a child's eyes.
juan, forgive my (mine) pun
My daughter was born, after a long labour, on a rainy Wednesday morning - 15 years later I can still remember the pattern on the curtains in the birthing suite and the sound of the rain on the windows. Each memory we have is precious. Well done, a lovely haiku.