Spring
Okay, so I know it’s been forever since I’ve written in here, but I at least have a good excuse! I’ll be doing more writing now, since Eian is sleeping more and I have a computer upstairs.
Here’s something I wrote the other day:
Spring
Like the tight spiral of a fiddlehead fern,
singing with potential energy,
your foot curls in the cupped palm of my hand,
so soft that my fingers are clumsy,
and I must feel it with my lips.
This foot has yet to hold your weight
or know the spreading shift of sand,
the sticky coolness of wet grass,
or the slapping pavement of a full run.
Bee stings and kickball still wait
in the mists of childhood.
This foot will walk you down aisles,
will pace the floor with screaming babies,
will support you in old age.
This foot will carry you away from me.
I kiss each perfect toe;
they wait, like tree buds,
for the earth to turn a little.
