every now and then there is a very peaceful moment
tucked in waves of extreme fatigue.
Having one now.
like finding an unbroken clamshell on the beach
in the midst of a winter storm.
i am nursing a tiny glass of red wine,
surrounded by sleeping dogs, and sleeping baby.
a quiet song i don’t know the name of is playing on repeat
i’ve managed to find a good pen
and have gotten a few words scratched into the journal i so neglect these days
the kitchen is mostly clean and i remembered to buy dogfood
and there’s enough clean laundry to mean clothes for the boy
and clean underwear for me
and that’s the best i can do lately
and in this moment, this lull,
staring at him while he sleeps,
tiny hand curled next to his forehead
i know the best i can do lately is plenty good enough.
a clamshell worth picking up
and bringing home to set on the windowsill.

photo by Andrea Fuentes-Diaz


1 Comment

Filed under love, motherhood, Ordinary, poetry

One response to “clamshell

  1. Theresa Trebon

    In the new world you inhabit
    taking time to sit and breathe
    and watch a tiny hand curled to forehead
    is more than plenty good enough…
    it is life at its best.
    Everything else can wait

    Nice to see you back in the saddle of words.
    Give that boy a smooch from us.

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