When I wake up

Outside my bedroom window

Are birds balancing on giant tree branches

And their high pitched echoes are a gift to my ears

Like the light from the sun finally hitting the earth

And I know that it is morning, because

I am in my bed covered in a thick blanket

And can hear the radio voices in the kitchen, 

 

And I know that there stands a being

 

Her aura is orange and blue by the sink

Washing the dishes with her wrinkled hands

Turquoise barrette grasps her silver hairs

She smells of pillow down and lemon dish soap

Her green eyes focus on the radio

While her hands mechanically swoosh around 

cup rims, fork limbs, tupperware lids,

 

Something in this magical brew, 

Fills me to the brim.

I swaddle myself in my blanket red,

And eat breakfast in bed.  

Author's Note

Poem about my mom.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i remember feeling this way about my mom...there was that cozy feeling of safeness because she was there...i do miss her.

thank you for this poem.

j.

[maricoona91]

Thank you, and I'm sorry for your loss

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you...people we love leave this earth...but they seem to stay with us in precious memories...

[Terpsichore]

Deft as an artist's brush. The observation is acute and paints a perfect picture in the mind's eye.

Enjoyed very much.


T

[maricoona91]

thank you so much!
i appreciate it. :)
-Marina

[Chris]

It tasted of a "home" memory.

[maricoona91]

thats the point but could flow a lot better.

[Chris]

You can make it sparser... but then would it be you or would it be someone else's vision - version - of you? We define our thought's flow ...others capture their own perception of ...us.

[maricoona91]

interesting. well, i think that I could do editing on it to make it more of what I want..possible cut out some words and add some to just add a better flow. Thanks for your consideration!

[Chris]

I found for me that the hardest thing is to NOT suggest my words. The author needs the power and confidence to use THEIR words to express how they want something expressed - it keeps the work theirs. I, like you, can point toward where I feel stumbles exist (poetry IS aural after all) or to bits clear as mud. I try to make a comment express my perception so the other can "see" if I get it.

[maricoona91]

Okay. I agree that I don't like giving others my own words and I don't respond well to others'words to substitute for mine. I agree that rather, we should critique with passages that work/don't work.

[Chris]

I guess keeping it "real" is a tad harder than we originally think after all.

Sensing "mom" isn't hard after she's actually gone from your own existence - NOT sensing her ...is.

[maricoona91]

I haven't had to experience that yet =(

[maricoona91]

Chris, thank you for all your patience with me a year ago! Your poetry is very inspiring =)

[3X3MPLER]

a wonderful piece of writing.i really like it

[maricoona91]

thank you very much

[Insight "MH"]

That was a fine picture that you drew in fine wording, I really felt being there standing and seeing that for real. Thank you for sharing.


Insight.

[maricoona91]

Hi,
Thanks so much for reading! I have trouble with this poem because it doesn't flow well..it is really choppy and I want the feeling that I'm writing about to be conveyed in the poem.
Nevertheless, thanks for the complement.
Marina

[Insight "MH"]

You are welcome. Your write looks fine to me, I really enjoyed it.

[alifeacoustic]

Moms are great aren't they? Mine is 83, suffers from dementia and is pretty much housebound, but she still makes me breakfast when I go round to see her. :-)
Great piece, capturing all that is beautiful about waking. Sounds like a perfect start to a perfect day.

[maricoona91]

Thanks for reading,
Moms bring us back to our childhood. Thats sweet about your mom.
Thank you!

[alifeacoustic]

You're very welcome.