Poetry April 12: If Parents of Young Children were Poets- by Me!

Sometimes, when I am putting the kids to bed I find words that capture my voice, if I am lucky or on top of it  I journal or write those down quickly. Tonight I turned them into a poem (of course not edited-read the poem).

If parents of young children were poets 
(and I don't know any who are)

Their poetry would printed in sticky jelly
or berry juice. Each page tasting of yesterday's meals.

Their poems would waft of a load of clean laundry
not to be folded but sifted through for today's clothes.
The scent of dirty diapers sitting on the living room floor
would catch your nose as you walk buy.

Their poems would be unedited messes of toys
and well intended baskets of crayons filled with paper, and plastic food, stickers clean single-serve yogurt containers, and some crayons.

If the parents of young children were poets
they would be worn from all the touching.
The rough touching of hauling children from carseats and
picking up hot bodies from meltdowns would wear the words thin.
And the gentle tenderness of damp and tender bathtimes or
rocking a sick warm child in a lethargic state would
speak louder than any Valentines's Day love poem could offer.

-Rachel Doll O'Mahoney
just wrote it- so of course unpublished.


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