Parenting, Social Justice, Uncategorized

There was

A crowning baby, blushed pink,
coated thick with mother’s blood
and floating memory.

A keepsake from the womb, an
amulet pinned to the breast, kept
close, winged in a vice of love.

Whispered promises in a small
shell ear – all a varied mosaic,
glittering dreams and wishes,
spiked with oppressive edges –
enclosed in an envelope, a mother’s heart,
sealed with spit and time.

Sun and moon, orbed irises,
blinking open and close the days,
watch aching and stretching
bones and flesh-

Sprouting hair and hormones,
rounded hips, smooth ripe skin
flowering buds unfolding from the
tip of a waking tree.

Mutable nature, replacing molecular
eggs, modular bodies, promises broken
in a shaking wind.

Dried milk spilled on a wooden floor,
it knows me.

I wrote this poem from a writing prompt that I found on the poet Luisa Igloria’s blog.

In case you’re wondering, I’m filling my blog with poetry this month to exercise my brain and honor National Poetry Month. And in some small way, I like to think that I’m putting something in the world that was never there before. I hope you join me.

I am currently working on a short story that I plan to put here soon, but it’s taking me places that I didn’t anticipate and I’m really enjoying its process.  So I’m working through it slowly and watching how it’s taking shape and continually changing. I can’t wait until I share it with you.


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