knees
some nights i sleep
with the hope that the blades of my shoulders might
sprout wings, feathered and gruesome but
capable
of lifting me from the mattress
and carrying me to the top of the oak outside my window,
where i would preen them in gratitude
for setting me free from duty and dust.
some mornings i wake
with your plum-sized knees pressed against my
back, sharp and bruising but
capable
of grounding me into this place in time,
where i kiss the bones that stab me
for setting me free from ego and ending.
who would i be but for the weight of your need on my spine?
4 replies on “knees”
Genius finds the profundity in the ordinary, stealing the common for literary baptism into eternal life.
I love this. The way you express the desire for freedom that we’re not supposed to feel as mothers, and the gratitude for the “duty and dust” we also feel at the same time… and the phrase “the weight of your need” is so good. Love it.
Weighty but illuminated…a mama’s lode
Shoulder blades – knees – need.
And “setting me free from ego and ending.”
SO lovely and clever!