First Mother’s Day
Nine Months
They were everywhere,
dancing with clowns,
dueling with foam swords,
bopping each other
on the head with red,
green, yellow, balloons
all painted with smiley
faces. Sometimes, chasing
blue ones around the
grass, laughing, every one
of them, even after
falling or being told
it was time to go.
They ran between our
dancing skirts and we
took small steps not to
trample them. Blond curls
and black waves and red
knotty meshes like my
own hair at their age.
Scattered about in all
directions, I had to sit
to stop spinning. “Get
used to it,” Sarah said
and I laughed, rubbing
my ripe belly. Yet, could
not imagine this new
world below my knees,
the tiny people and their
original awareness.
Tags: children, mom, mother's day, motherhood, play, poems, poetry, pregnancy
Pregnancy Poetry, Uncategorized | admin May 1, 2009
