I am sitting cross-legged on a bench,
in the high-ceilinged lobby of a downtown office building
Callum is sleeping beside me, and I am writing cards
waiting for Ryan to get done with a massage appointment a dozen floors upstairs
good warm sun for the garden today
have to cover the greens bed as soon as the winter planting shows itself
the wind in the oak trees outside is scattering sunshadows across the baby’s face
not a scrap of poetry in me right now
maybe a grocery list though.
soymilk, bread, pasta, sundried tomatoes, peanut butter

Callum, 8 weeks, sharing a pillow with Assata


1 Comment

Filed under basic goodness, love, motherhood, Ordinary, poetry

One response to “scraps

  1. I do hope you frame this. Look at the wisdom in those eyes…It is a truly stunning photo.


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