Victoria’s First Solids

As we
mixed up the
oatmeal cereal
I sensed an odd
familiarity-
Was I remembering
when my mama
mixed it for me
or when she fed it
to my sisters?
I told you about this
and you said you
thought about something
too–
Looking at these photos
of our baby girl’s first meal
many many
years later
after our
divorce
and crying–

This is
Victoria’s first solids–

Sleeping

Red baby toys
strewn across the floor
no shadow wreaking havoc
as the Saturday’s rain
falls down
Sleeping
Tired
Messy lipped baby
You rest so peacefully
in your halo sleep sack
Beige
Wanting
Waiting
for one more little sip
Your eyes
So devilish
We write sneaky sneaky
on the comments in the
iCloud shared folder
What is it to be you
on a silent morning
gray day or
lazy
weekend
after
noon?

Try

The hormones
completely out of whack
swinging from one mood
to the next
I’m definitely swaying this way
I think
and then twenty minutes later
so close to the other–
What do I truly believe
I want to know
and how much of this is just
THAT
the weaning process never
spoken about
never acknowledged on the news
never covered in circles
unless you’re a mom
among other moms
and then it’s still such
a shameful act
we don’t talk
we just suffer in silence
behind closed doors
with signs that say:
DO NOT ENTER
both physically and
yet emotionally it is
the hardest damn pill to
swallow
And still I’m expected to go work
to perform
to pretend to care
to teach
Rascals
and rats
who I forget are someone else’s
children too–
And when I do remember that they
belong to you
I’m fearful that might happen to me
and us
and why and how
could it happen?
Will it happen?
Only time will tell–
And in the meantime I
pray to you
Dear Lord
to give me strength
to show me what to do
to remind me to have faith in you
that this challenge is just another lesson
and I can really make it if I try
Try
Try
Try

Loving You

I look into your eyes
and I see time
and
space

Everything
becomes
one

Allthepartssquished

Infinite
Falling into place
Puzzle pieces drawn in

Snap

they go
together

Flow

one breath to the next

Your iris a portal
to God’s mind
Your gaze
fixed
into mine
A vast ocean
Fine

I’ll let you go to sleep
on your own–

OCD

Sitting on a black chair
in the corner
next to the wooden closets
and more importantly
the electrical outlet
I’m wishing for more milk
to come
so I can feed you
into
eternity–

Empty Sink

Why am
I afraid to write
The thing that kept me sane
for so long
For
Months
Even years
you stood by me
Words
Dripping so fast
The
Faucet
To
Time
Filling up the sink
My soul
Like raindrops
To grow–

Chance to

are you back yet
in the corner recesses of my mind
waiting
lurking
like a selfish bumble bee
sucking up all the
flower juices
stealing all the essence
before I have a
chance to breathe–