Notes
Tag Archives: memorie
One Day
he hated when my belt pushed against him in the womb
and then one day he was grown
he screamed so loud when he was born he went to the NICU
and then one day he was grown
he refused bottles at daycare because he wanted me to nurse
and then one day he was grown
he learned to walk and rawr
in the same week
and then one day he was grown
he scrapped both knees
called his bandaids stickers
and then one day he was grown
he fell asleep after five minutes in the car but wouldn’t sleep in his crib
and then one day he was grown
he was obsessed with dinosaurs and Paw Patrol
and then one day he was grown
he was so brave on his first day of school while I bawled
and then one day he was grown
he is thirsty for knowledge when it’s something he loves
and then one day he’ll be grown
he is so wild and exhausting and full of life
and then one day he’ll be grown
he still needs me to sit with him at night when he gets scared
and then one day he’ll be grown
he still says he loves me every once in a blue moon
and then one day he’ll be grown.
The House My Mother Grew Up In
I remember the smell I don’t know if it was perfume Or just antique furniture But it was dust and love mixed into one I remember the light streaming through the kitchen windows Early morning breakfasts At the nook table in the corner next to the washer. My grandfathers garden right outside the back door. Red painted fencing, large pepper plants The stairs to the massive basement around the kitchen corner This was the house my mother grew up in. A large wood burning stove right in the middle of the living room Wood paneling on the walls That classic White Jesus painting on the hallway wall A huge bay window with lace curtains in the living room I remember a pink carpet but I can’t say for sure. My sister and I slept on the floor in the family room. On blankets and sleeping bags A large glass display shelf With equal amounts of porcelain babies And modern model race cars There was brick somewhere A large front yard Maybe a garage but it’s been too long. This was the house my mother grew up in. Faint memories are all I have left. -b.e.
b.e. poetry: A place for my words 