Sunday, June 23, 2024

Judges 5: In Writing

 I, to God, I will sing


Seek "I"

pasty-faced in the mirror

while hands drum the door

Imma, I need you, I really

need you. 


Nur, nur, the baby pinches my shin

demanding milk.

From the corner of my eye

the hawk-swoop of my son's hand

and my daughter is wailing.


Motherhood is resisting

the blandishment

of rest. Constant

vigilance.   

Pull your mouth into a smile

Focus. Split 

your ears three ways.


Why did you hit your sister?

my voice a harsh caw. 

The casual kicks

swats and biting. Stop

I say. I am counting


They are wildwaters

bursting all dams

I the melting mountain.


His legs kick 

like a donkey's, just missing

my stomach,  

 I wonder how i ever

contained him

within me. 


Peer through the window

as the last lights fades

enumerate and engrave the finds of the day:

a smile, a cloud, a bird, glints on water

try to awaken tomorrow

to eke out a voice

and tell it sing. 



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