I couldn’t write last week because of all the dripping. From my eyes, from my breasts. As theirs did. Except I had a change of clothes and my baby to soothe me and mine. I still had my dignity. I couldn’t speak last week because of all the confusion. From my head, from my heart.… Read more
The baby hums as he sleeps and he smiles as he dreams, while my mind races with preparation for the day to come- there is always so much. I’m running late again as I race the highway, but the ditches are a visual reprieve. Though boggy, like my sleep-deprived brain, they are accentuated by purple… Read more
Even your eyes are wilder. Dark green at the edges, golden green near the inner core. Yours are larger than your sister or brother’s blues. More excitable, more curious. You and yours are more eager. Your eyes don’t speak worry. All your eyes concern themselves with is finding the source to achieve your daily chocolate… Read more
Rain falls down. Dripping on and soaking my exposed belly with you inside as I walk the path. The ditch teems with water, swirling, swooshing to the lower river. And there, it bursts and flows, as the cows gather at its edge, watching me out of the corner of their eye. I walk with you,… Read more
Sleep in on a Sunday, and then honour a wish to hold them tight. Because the dirty dishes can go unwashed. Because the floor can be swept later on, and because the yogurt can go on living in their hair just a couple hours or a day more. Their socks needn’t match. Respect your combined… Read more
