Monday, March 5, 2012

Some Sevenlings

image by joel kellner
granddaughter, rylee joy


First, she chatters, makes raspberries,
and finally cries in her crib; I can hear it
through the walls, even without the monitor.

I stumble through the cold, change her
diaper, get her dressed, and heat a bottle
to feed her sitting in my lap, eyes closed.

The morning is all silence and warmth, then.

* * *

Maria Told Her To.

For the baby, she bakes organic chicken,
organic vegetables, homemade
fruit juice cut with distilled water.

She puts things – not necessarily toys –
in boxes, to be emptied, to be arranged,
to be returned and put away.

And when it’s outgrown, she ships it to friends to start again.

* * *

C.L. Bledsoe

Posted over on his site Murder Your Darlings

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