the evening turns to night.
a tangy darkness, a touch of aubergine.
shadows move richly on soft, deft strokes
into the places most lived on my hands.
i am sitting awake,
in the deeply sleeping home of my family.
my body flutters underneath me.
i run fingers through my hair,
touch the bruise across my thigh.
the heavy root of milky breast
hangs dense and fat over my abdomen.
i sense that i am not my own,
that my body still is hers.
the breeze moves from our screen
across her mouth,
open like the tiny sail
of a boat across the sky.
my baby cries so quietly.
she knows i am already there.
maggie may ethridge
one woman, telling the truth about my life
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"She knows I am already there."
Peace.
Beautiful! Beautiful words from the heart of a loving mother...
xo
O.
Just that: an open mouth, a breath taken in.
Beautiful. Things seem very calm and still with you right now - I love it. :)
I love the mood and reflection in this poem, the image of the tiny mouth, and the final line. I also love this line: "the heavy root of milky breast hangs dense and fat" I think you could cut the next three words of the line, and keep the poem's momentum. Also, this streamlining combines the beautiful images of the 1st and 2nd lines: "the evening turns to tangy darkness, a touch of aubergine" It's wonderful to read one of your poems again!
So beautiful. Always love your images.
the breeze moves from our screen
i have been there.
oh maggie!
love it!
aubergine
deft strokes
into the places most lived on my hands.
This is so beautiful!
Beautiful.
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