Friday, February 19, 2016

bowl and spoon

Last night my Found Object poem intent was sidelined by several hours spent with my ailing 16-year-old--we suspect food poisoning.  Being awake with her into the wee hours, huddled and cuddled on the fuzzy rug of the bathroom with the blue commode, reminded me of an old poem from her toddler days.  It's dated February 14, 2001.


Spoon

                        Stirred by jet lag

my small daughter

         deyicious, citing and diffent

 at twenty months

lies against me, heavy

         with wakefulness

in the narrow guest bed, and

               wetly practices whispering:

         Gama seep?  Danel seep?  Dulyet seep?

She checks

the roster of newly met relatives.

They’re all   

        asleep.          She falls quiet,

              rolls over,

                       and suddenly I feel her
                                                                       weightless
   in the bowl of my body as    

          sleep lifts her a few hovering inches

                 into the white December morning.

All she leaves behind is her

                                  hand, Mama

(c) Heidi Mordhorst 2001

There was a LOT of Found Object Project action here on Monday--don't miss the approximately 15 takes on one half-empty cup o' joe!

Our round-up host today is  Donna at Mainely Write--oh, this is gonna be fun!

10 comments:

  1. Sorry to hear Daisy was sick! The last time that happened to me was six months ago or so (Chipotle!). Taking activated charcoal helped a lot.
    I can just hear a child checking on whether everyone else is asleep, and I love the way you describe her being weightless in the bowl of your body.

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  2. Sorry for this 'icky' illness, Heidi. It's never pleasant. But this time it did bring a wonderful memory, your poem. I love all her "baby" words and love also that you captured them in the poem.

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  3. This poem touched my heart! I could feel her cuddly baby ness! I hope the fast forward version, the 16 year old daughter, is feeling much better. Does it really go so fast? My little girl is almost 3!

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  4. Sorry about the suspected food poisoning; glad your daughter had you to be with in the throes of her ups and downs, as in the yesteryear poem...I love the comparison of "heavy with wakefulness" with "weightless in the bowl of my body as sleep lifts her.." The integration of her authentic speech, especially the last two words are very powerful. Beautiful memory for both of you. I can see you gifting her with a memory album someday, including this very special poem. Thanks for sharing a bit of your family life! God bless you.

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  5. Hope your daughter is feeling better today, Heidi. Your poem is so tender and loving. How I miss those bodies, "heavy with wakefulness." Thank you for sharing it with us.

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  6. Sure hope your daughter feels better -- no fun! I love "bowl of my body." xo

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  7. What a sweet poem. Isn't it interesting how illness makes kids vulnerable and we're taken back to a time when they were little people? (By the way, I really enjoyed your "loaded potato" poem - fun and clever!_

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  8. No matter how old they get they are still our babies - especially when they are sick. I hope she is feeling better, Heidi. I agree, the line, "in the bowl of my body" says it all. =)

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  9. Sorry to hear that Daisy is ill. I hope it was a short bug and she is all better now. I hope no one else catches it. Lovely poem. I like the way this scoops together and ladles out the lines.

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  10. "weightless in the bowl of my body" - remembering those times! I hate when our kids are sick! Hope all is back to normal!

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