January 28, 2013
Weaning, day 7
The air is thick around me
with the murky speckle of night
I lie in bed
still as wood
with cabbage leaves
cupping my breasts
your dad is in your room
rubbing your back
while you cry
I want mama
words that take up
all the space
in my throat
so there is almost
no room left
for breath.
Next Poem — In defense of being busy
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Sometimes it is so hard to remember that our job as a parent is to slowly separate ourselves from the ones who we want to forever hold the closest. In so many ways I discover weaning takes a lifetime, never sure who is being weaned.
ReplyKaren
Jan 29, 2013
What my darling doesn’t know, is the little one was sound asleep, and I was remembering my weaning. We all want mama.
Terrance
Replypete
Jan 29, 2013