Tessa, A Mother’s Love

I wanted to quote Plath,
love set you going like a fat
gold watch, then growing loquacious
like your squalls of colic
I’d thumped your back
and all emptied out
you’d quietened down
leaving echoes in the hall.

Then there’s the constipation
and no one dared speak
roughly; cooing like pigeons,
we’d coaxed out the poo
while your face contorted with
extreme overstrained effort,
but at least you didn’t
turn gray blue.

Grandpa had examined your face
and pudgy hands, gamely toes
so nothing else would matter
as much as you. Mostly I remembered
you’re playing with the angel,
conversing out of customary politeness
so only the stars could listen to
you came you came.


Day 29

“We’re once again doing two-for-Tuesday prompt. So pick one, combine both prompts into one poem, or write two (or more) different poems. Here are the prompts:

Write a love poem. A poem about love, people who are in love, attempting to woo, or some other lovely spin on the subject. Or…
Write an anti-love poem. I know that for every lover there’s an equally powerful hater.”


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