Righty, you are the most mighty.
While lefty sat on her ass,
you showed up with sass
and you refused to take your job lightly.
At first it–and you!–were just hard
I thought we wouldn’t get far
but you pushed through and really told hold.
When nurses hooked you up to a tube
I figured we both were screwed
as you eeked out drops of that gold.
Then the next thing I knew
the liquid did spew
a veritable foundation had somehow been unlocked.
Puddles on the floor
yet still you made more
and I distinctly recall being shocked.
There were some painful cracks
and a lot of hot/cold packs
then layers and layers of ointment.
Never mind that now you’ll sag
like a damp, full trash bag
for feeding my child was most important.
Now my reader will find
that it wasn’t in their mind
the topic of this poem they guessed it.
I’m writing in jest
about my rightmost breast
and my gratitude, I just expressed it.