Poem of the month
I first saw this poem by Karen Howland in an old Mothering Magazine while it was in print. It’s been one of my favorites. Karen has graciously given me permission to print this here for you. Take a moment and enjoy.
My Days Are Made of You and Me
You dance tangerine slices across my skin and sing I love you mama.
Your cheeks burst with citrus juice and the sun runs down your chin.
Anticipation is too much, you eat cheese right through the wrap.
It’s your first embrace of everything that enamors me so.
Your feet try and leave the certainty of gravity, jubilant
jump, leap, fall into my lap, I quiet you with a kiss, and you’re off
flying, feeling, falling the fruit of you, the tree of me, we spin
telling time by milk rather than clocks, and we smell heaven
in cinnamon and pillows and corners the world forgets.
There is a melon slice in your open palm, an orange smile
that travels from your hand, to your face, to my soul.
By Karen Howland
You can check out Karen’s website here.