Thetis & Achilles—Julia McMullen

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by Julia McMullen

You dip your newborn son into
the River Styx,
your fingers gripping his soft,
wrinkly heel. He cries as you lower him,
he feels so far from you, from
the only person he’s ever known,
and you bathe him in the waters
that separate life from death,
and for a moment he is suspended
again, in a womb, tethered to you
and only you for the briefest moment.
When you pull him out he cries like
he did when he was born, his body
slippery and warm as you draw him
back to your breast, wrapping him in
cloth. He is safe now. You feel
the relief like an iron stone had
been tied to your feet. You forget
about his ankle, kept dry by your
thumb and forefinger, kept dry
because you couldn’t let him go, not
even for a moment, and walk the long
way home.

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Julia McMullen is a poet living in Nebraska with her husband and two young children. When she is not writing, she is gardening, baking bread, or singing. Her work has appeared in several journals, most recently The Way Back to Ourselves Journal and The Clayjar Review. You can read more of her work at her Substack, Seasoned with Salt.

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Photo by Xiangkun ZHU on Unsplash