Tuesday, December 16, 2008


Now, you sleep. A wave of sour milk,

a hundred piles of wash and me, your mother, in bed

crying real tears, your gums already so familiar,

and your feet, your seabird cry,

and now, you sleep, a sleep of the very tired,

a sleep I long to be sleeping,

but your cry, your breath. I hear too much

of you, hear black and blue, and when I reach

for you (as I do and do and do),

my hand finds the warm, moist air from your nose,

and I count your breaths. (One, two). Now, you sleep,

and I stand over you, and I want already

for you to forgive me, forgive my lurking,

my counting, forgive my bone-tired bones,

my envying your rest, my wondering if I can do this loving,

this I am your mother, and you are my child

kind of loving. Now, you sleep, and the wash stays

undone, and I too am undone, completely undone by you.


Zoe said...

Oh Nicole. Thanks for writing this. xo

Anonymous said...

I love this!!! You are such a great writer and a wonderful mommy. I love you and am so proud of you.

little miss mel said...

just lovely nicole. I think it's such a precious poem to your daughter.

Hang in there! You'll get through the tiredness, you just do. You're doing great!!!!

Anonymous said...

I have sung this song... I just didn't have these eloquent words.
Hang in there... just when you feel like you can't do it anymore.. you'll get your second wind.. or catch a little nap and you'll be up and ready to go.
Much Love to you all