Consider Your Navel

Bill Willson

I first saw an umbilical cord in 1965 when the doctor called me into the delivery room moments after my second daughter was born.  She was a bundle of angry red flesh, kicking and waaahing in protest of bright lights and cold air her mother’s womb had protected her from. As the doctor severed the cord and tied his knot, I wondered if my daughter would have a pretty little belly button. Five years later I witnessed birth’s miracle myself as I saw my third daughter transformed from a dull blue lump of lifeless clay into this marvelous pink, kicking and screaming baby girl. This time when I saw the cord cut, I also saw the glistening tangle of afterbirth unceremoniously tossed into a plastic bag marked “Biological Waste.” Cut from the newborn, removed from the womb and tossed aside to wither and decay, I wondered if this remnant of…

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About bmwillson1936

I was born with writer's DNA, but it receded to the depths of my soul when I encountered the bitter facts of life.Much later after five decades of living I was assigned by my employer to write legal conveyances of land documents, and this drew out my natural love of words and putting ideas into the paper prison. Thus began my quest for publication.The road was long and bumpy, with occasional pitfalls, but I'm staying on until I can no longer put words on the paper that make any sense or serve no valid purpose. Here's to rebirth and the celebration of writing
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