A Poem by Essence London

The relationship between mother and newly-born son.

When she lies down in her cotton nightgown to bed, there is always enough room to her left for another body. Seldom is it occupied before three in the morning. So she burns a violet stick of incense, huddles over her pillow with a novel and tries to hold it in an angle that utilizes the dimming bulb in the lamp. The words remain blank. She blinks and restarts the paragraph. A cough from the other room saves her. She ignores the fact that she runs and opens the nursery door too loudly. Now he is awake and clamoring for her arms and her breasts. She coos him back to the empty room to stroke his hair, and he keeps her warm.

© 2013 Essence London

Author's Note

Essence London
"Midnight" is one part of a series that I am writing on mothers.
This is not the final draft. Sequencing and titles are bound to change. I would appreciate any feedback.

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Added on March 1, 2013
Last Updated on March 1, 2013
Tags: poetry blocks, prose poetry, mothers, sons, series, draft


Essence London
Essence London

North Little Rock, AR

I am a mother first, but all of my life I've been a poet. more..

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A Poem by Essence London