Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Wave

Remarkable how it comes over me
Fast, from first prickle
To full clammy rush
Like the swift tide of mortification
In junior high.
At fifteen, I wailed with pain,
Take it out!
I won't have children!
I didn't know
Who was waiting for me
Fifteen years later;
The squeaking package
Who changed everything.
Who made all the mishegoss
Worth it.
Now the package is opened
And, twenty years on,
Rolls her beautiful eyes
At all this.
And this heated rush
Comes in a wave
Of goodbye to all that.


Michele Hush said...

Love this, and recognize your mixed emotions as familiar - I've been there, too.

Katherine C. James said...

And this heated rush
Comes in a wave
Of goodbye to all that.

Your last three lines are particularly beautiful and true. Our lives unfold differently, yet we have certain bittersweet things in common. The expected and unexpected change in life, life's temporality, has been on my mind. Your poem moves from the specific to the universal of life's losses and gains in a lovely way.

Susan Champlin said...

Thank you, Michele and Katherine. Grateful to stand on common ground with you two wise, wonderful women. xo

cousin Sarah said...

Isn't it amazing how quickly it's over? Yes, we're always parents, but the day-to-day, ups and downs, bliss and crying and peanut butter and kisses...that goes so fast. An impressive argument for living each day to its fullest, no regrets!

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