poetry on mamazine:

What She Finds
by Cati Porter

Mother May I
by Cati Porter

Seven Floors Up to the Kitchen of the Soul
by Cati Porter

Sick Day
by Emily Scudder

The Newborn Explains Three Days of Prodromal Labor; The Newborn Explains His Unhelpful Sleep Patterns; The Infant Explains His Continuing Sleep Problems
by David Harris Ebenbach

Gravity
by C. Delia Scarpitti

Language
by Kristen Berger

Every Angel
by Jackie Regales

The Early Morning
by Margaret Elysia Garcia

Thunder
by Angela Papalas


prev << 21 - 30 of 125 >> next
LOGO LOGO LOGO LOGO LOGO LOGO LOGO LOGO

POETRY

Water Sprite
by Cynthia Bostwick

My son jumps
into the deep end
goes straight down:
I resist my need
to reach for him,
let him bring himself
to the top.
Water glazes
his brown face,
his smile is broader
than before he leapt.
Through watery myopia,
he grabs
my hungry hands,
and breathes at last:
a hearty sigh.
"I want to do it again, Momma,"
he says,
once again buoyant,
out of my reach.
My eyes brim,
nothing pleases
and terrifies
me more than
the fresh bravery
of his new love:
water.

Cynthia Bostwick is a post-menopausal single lawyer mama who writes, mothers, and works in the Peoples' Republic of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her three-year-old son Benjamin is eight of her nine muses and the reason she won't give up her day job. Her poetry has been published in the Metro Times, Blueroot, and Poets Against the War, and her prose can be found in civil and criminal filings across Michigan. She blogs at Tsukismom Speaks.