Evanescence of Pain, Persistence of Joy


Eight months disgorging my guts
in public places;
three with a numb thigh, and heavy
corset in heated weather;
22 and one half hours of labor;
thinking I'd likely not do this again

Waffles on this mother's day morning
Watching him work, sweating a little
muttering under his breath as we
carry a wall back into a small room

Remembering the look of wonder: at one, holding
a dandelion's white head, and blowing --
the flower's children sent forth to the
next greening, growing, flowering

And the one who came after, quick and bright
and hot. Rushing into the split between today
and forever as if there were not midnight, no dawn
Blood and tears, and doing it again and again

Fathers both, now, and I am grown old
mourning what I can no longer persuade
my body to do; things left undone
And the bright nodding heads of their children
dreaming not quite yet of their children

All of us ~~ link after link, move the gears
of time forward. Life seems like this: Stopping in
the middle of the poem to make chicken salad.
And just now the raucous spring song
of a Carolina Wren breaks the peace
with joy



jjl
8 May 2011