Tuesday, July 27, 2010


We are in the grocery store.

You are teething; mouth swollen and bruised
but we are in reprieve and you are laughing.

I am warmth and you are mine.

She walks toward us with a cold blue stare I chide my judgement and offer a smile
She swoops in as I am distracted

cruel words
in your direction.

Your face.
I wait for your sweet eyes to crumple.
They don't.

Before that happens I stop being human.
I stop being

who loves

deep breaths
what is right
open fields
and sunshine

and I am only

who sees a threat

I lose everything to this one realization:

I would kill
to protect you.

I am alarmed and distracted and raw
and cannot compose an appropriate response

Instead I think I roar
only like the mother that I am.

We lock eyes, she and I.
Try as I might, I cannot pull my message away.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Blood Work

Sweet baby.
Today you needed some blood drawn.

First we went to the grocery store
where I bought you a balloon
because you were happy
and I felt ashamed that this world can be too harsh

Get Well Soon!
Scrawled across silver mylar
and I wish that towards the world

where you will be subjected to life
the difficult things we have to choose
and the difficult things we never would

I couldn't bear to go into that tiny lab room with you
so your Papa held you on his lap

your brother and I distracting ourselves in the waiting room
until my guilt made me pass by the window

your tiny scared face
rightfully angry
hot tears and sweat

When Papa carried you out
the world could have split
you on one side
I on the other

and nothing
would have kept me
from pulling you into my arms

I'm so sorry that I cannot promise
smooth sailing from here

and even sorrier that I can promise
rocky seas will come

but that is life
and we're building you a strong ship.

Tonight we put you to bed
and at first you were happy

but then the tears swelled
a deep cry
and I couldn't stop imagining you
afraid of that needle

I went and first I held you
and then I put you back to bed
leaning into your crib
rubbing your back
and then my hand still
feeling your tiny breath

Twice I tried to take my hand away
your wide eyes found me
and back it went
until you made it safely to sleep

The trick, I think
is keeping that hand there
gently on your back

even once I've left the room.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


I learned pride tonight
here when I thought I knew it all along

but that on the face of my baby son
blowing bubbles in the bath water

half the time taking accidental gulps

all for my applause -

unabashed wild smile
and a sparkle in his eye

I want him to always be this free
and acutely unaware

my torn open heart again and again

be careful, so careful.

These are beautiful tiny humans and all that that entails.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Picking raspberries at the well.

Had I known
that one year olds can pick their own raspberries
reaching out with fat sticky fingers
joyful and sure

had I known the caution-less bliss
no bug checks
just raspberry to mouth
again and again

and had I known
I mean really known

sweet raspberry pulp
smeared haphazardly on baby fat chins

I wouldn't have chosen writing as my outlet

but photography to catch


But then I realize no still camera could capture
the sun's dance in pixie wisps
the way it really is

and so maybe cinematography
until I realize no lens at all
can appreciate
that the wind is better when it's laced with
belly laughs
and chatter untainted by a good grasp of language.

So I'm back to words
and feel like I can't get enough air

until the right word is found

time is slipping away
this will pass
before I've captured it right
and before I'm ready to let it go


and still nothing feels big enough
right enough
or true enough.

Not disillusioned by art
but humbled by life.