Someone asked me recently what I wrote on a daily basis…yikes, obviously not this blog. With the recent uncovering of an old notebook of in-progress poetry and short pieces of non-fiction, I’ve been working on some of those a little bit. And I’ve also been rereading a book of e.e. cummings poetry (he is probably one of my favorite poets). So, here is a short little thing I’ve been working on, a draft really.
Fingers and toes wrapped tightly
He whispered hope into fragile ears
And kissed you quietly-leaving
The mark of promise,
His gift to you.
When the cold reality of plasma, blood, and tears
Envelops and jams up droplet-nostrils
And a throttled cry arises from fresh breathing lungs,
Then the gasping of humanity becomes your own.
The spool is wound
Bundled love now bobbing to the harmony
Welcome á la vie, little one