Poem for Prim

The sweatshirt says it all folks

How am I supposed to get things done
When my whole day
Revoles around a tiny one?

I try to mop & wash & scrub
I’d even LOVE to clean the tub
I milk & bounce & rock to sleep
I sing & hug when she starts to weep.

I need to put our things away
I can’t keep saying “another day”

I must sweep & clean & try to cook
And place our coats on their suggested hooks
The table needs wiping, the chickens need fed
And oh, god damnit, I forgot to make the bed.

But I remember
What my mom always said
“No one will be looking at these things
When you’re dead.”

So instead of trying to get things done
I’ll lighten up and have some fun.
I’ll snuggle & cuddle & hug & kiss
These are the days I don’t want to miss.

The warmth of her cheek
The smell of her head
I even LOVE how long it takes her to go to bed.

Her big blue eyes & toothless smile
Makes ever dirty thing worth while.

We are so lucky to be parents to Primrose


Sunday Treat

Sundays usually feel like a Holiday
Some kind of celebration
Maybe it’s because we,
Two alcoholics,
Made it through the weekend
Without getting so drunk
We fall out the wagon

Maybe because it’s ingrained
In our DNA
We’re not just white, you know,
But we have a long history
Of no work on Sundays.

This Sunday though

We ate pie for breakfast
Vegan Pumpkin
Our pumpkins.

We made a smoothie
As a pre-lunch boost
Our raspberries.

We made pumpkin chili
Again, our pumpkins.

Homemade rustic white bread
not our flour.

At 10
We stood at the door
To get sun in our eyes
At 12:30
We walked down our road
To get more sun in our eyes.

The snow was hard and
Shaped like crystals
As my husband carried my baby
And we dreamed
Of the life we are living.

Inside for soup
And bread
And pie
And tea
As Primrose grows
To sit on her own.

We are left to ourselves
At night
To write
And massage in candle light.

Sunday is one of my favorite Holidays.

The day we planted a Lilac bush that a moose later ate

Published by secretgardenalaska

Family of four living off-grid in Happy Valley, Alaska. We grow food, write stories, make jewelry, and live a sober life.

One thought on “Poem for Prim

  1. Thank you for sharing , it’s lovely and your little primrose is a beauty. And remember dear your not alone , your now in a sisterhood of many women who have a wrestled and wept with finding the balance of motherhood . My garden efforts were do stressful last year with a new baby in our family I swear I was gonna throw in the towel a dozen times just to save my bruised ego of if not the poor plants I killed or starved relatively lol but I didn’t thankfully we are still eating jars of our rewards and this spring I am renewed. And my baby walks and hopefully will dig in dirt right along with me .

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