Poem The New Mother for Thursday February 1 2024 Jill

[jill stockinger]

I JUST wrote this. Did not polish it yet, so I am looking forward to suggestions.

A bit of gentle humor. Jill

The New Mother   by Jill Stockinger

 

He grasps the first breast with aplomb,

bends to savor the proffered drink.

She imagines he is thinking, Ah! I detect

garlic and onion flavoring the milk.

 

She starts to feel apologetic, but he

partakes with obvious appreciation; then,

a polite nudge and turning of the head

indicates he’s ready for the next round-

 

ed breast, his small fingers questing

to hold—she’s imagining a scalpel

or violin—his soft lips an oh that tightens

as he sucks contentedly, eyes closed.

 

Is he concluding, definitely onion

and garlic, but a trace of fruity apple

and a dash of cinnamon? As he lies

sated at her breasts, she supposes

 

with wonder, he'll be walking soon;

images of Nijinsky in graceful gravity-

defying leaps cross her mind. She hears

thunderous applause. My son, she dreams.