A Spring Poem English #frapalymo

I’ve been out sick for the past few days (sinus pressure was so bad, it hurt to sit up and stare at a computer screen). Spring and summer colds are the absolute WORST! Who knows, it might be allergies. Although I seem to clear up whenever I step outside, so maybe it’s the building I work in. Ah, yes. That’s it! I’m allergic to my job!

Anyway, I hope to feel better by diving into this prompt for #frapalymo: “write a spring poem without the word spring in it.” Hopefully it will clear my sinuses, and I’ll be able to smell and hear again. Thanks, Bee, for translating again!

 

I awake to knocking on my windowsill.
I rise, pull open the blinds.
It is a young robin—
first time mother—
building a nest
between the rotting wood of the
windowsill and the brickface
of the front of my house.
We lock eyes for a moment—
touching our round bellies;
it is time.
The snow has melted away;
patches of freshly grown grass
glisten in the newborn sunlight—
icy water droplets lingering on the blades.
The trees are budding,
stretching their limbs towards the sky,
absorbing every ray of sun
to birth rose pink, alabaster silk,
and saffron tulle flowers.
I want to open my window—
sniff the crisp, pure air
of the  fledgling season,
but I mustn’t disturb a mother
preparing for her young.
She nods. I nod back
and turn to start the construction
of a nest for my own tiny suckling.

—Nortina

frapalymo

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SoCS: No Holds Barred Poetry Writing Challenge: Day 30

She still can’t open her eyes.
I cradle her pink, oval
face in my calloused, black hands.
Paint chips still on my jeans—
finishing a job when I got the call.
Mother extends a blessing hand from the bed,
pink band around her wrist.
Her scratchy voice says Rosa.
The little body cupped in my wide arms wiggles.
Her nose scrunches. Her lips quiver.
She opens her mouth and releases a shrill scream.
My first reaction to the birth of
my precious baby girl—
Her breath stinks.

—Nortina


And I am done with my poetry writing challenge! Yes, I have successfully written a new and original poem every day for 30 days (though I never quite confirmed that 30 days would be the goal). If you’d like to read previous poems for my No Holds Barred Poetry Writing Challenge, click the My Poetry tab on the navigation menu. This is also part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday and Love Is In Da Blog. Today’s prompt: relative/relativity.

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