Selfish

These are our moments
Feet sunk in knee high water
One pushing through and pulling back
Discomfort of the summer held at bay
By this little plastic pool
One hand on my stomach
Tiny foot straining against stretched skin
And a little man crouched at my knee
Brow furrowed
Pouring water from cup to bucket
Batting at a ball that springs
above the surface when pushed under
Serious,
Considering why these little things won't sink,
Sun cooking me but turning him
My favourite shade of coffee.

The sun has sunk.
It's when it's quiet the worry comes
So much to do but not enough
I was once full to bursting, now
My head is quiet, low rumble in the background
Am I lost?
Putting pen to paper
Runs the risk of confirming
I am nothing



But I love and I am loved

Reviews

[Gee]

Jesus that brought memories flooding back of my 16 year old daughter as a toddler. Makes me want to break out the home made vids and feel needed again.
You're writing style is very easy to read. Bit jealous, if I try non rhyming I mostly fail miserably

[jacob erin-cilberto]

but you are always something to that little boy who looks up to his daddy...

selfish? no because you are sharing moments with him...

but then, sylvia plath loved her children but said they got in the way of her writing...i guess normal life can do that...families, especially kids can keep us away from punching the keys...i imagine that part gets frustrating...

j.

[. serah .]

-- these days, every time i read the quintessential girl-woman poet, i am struck by how her voice is so clear and so sensitive... -- she is giving and yet she is searching for her own identity as well... and i think that's because she's beautiful in every way... -- handling the heat of the summer sun as she nurtures her golden boy... -- loving and being loved... and writing beautiful poetry too... a little lost... a little found... but most of all... magically profound...