Tag: Poetry

Restless Sleeper

Arms tucked at your sides,

the swaddle traps you

creating a womb-like feeling.

You arch against it (my back

recognizes the tilt of your head)

and grunt.

I lean over the bed, hold

my breath and hope

your eyes remain closed.

The Go-Ahead

The rain is like my labor,

tiny droplets that could

build to a deluge but don’t.

 

The beat thrums in my ears;

I know this crescendo by heart.

I count pavement squares

and the words drop –

I’m the female rebel

So I quicken my pace.

 

Ten long months later I’m finally unleashed.

 

My feet pound the sidewalk.

A run. My run.

My strides synchronize with alt-J and Alabama Shakes,

old tunes with a bass that urges

me onward

faster, harder.

 

(Admittedly,

this is more a shuffle than a run.

the twinge in my side reminding me

of hospital beds and staples).

 

There is jiggle

where there wasn’t before.

But this is not about that.

 

It’s about collecting pieces of me,

learning to marry me to Mom –

the intricate balance of meeting needs.

 

I run (sort of) splayed arm in joy,

singing the lyrics out loud,

not caring if I look crazy or sing off tune.

 

This is my reclaiming.

Dinner on Day Twelve

It’s the little triumphs –

 

getting him to latch on the first try,

calming his cries to the point of sleep

so we can make dinner like we used to –

 

that I collect like coveted seashells

(perfect curves, smooth pink bellies)

on this unfamiliar rocky shore.

4:00am Feedings

After pumping – 15 minutes of mechanic

tugs to fill bottles with milk –

I wake you.

Bleary eyed you stretch and grunt.

 

We settle into the glider

and you gaze at the stars

punched through the curtains.

 

I imagine you’re composing future

adventures for yourself as I write

haikus in my mind.