Would you like some ... Poetry for the night, or morning, or moments when you can really breathe

Sharing this today from one of my oldest friends, a fellow-mom and poet and frequent commenter here, Karin Fairbanks Crawford.  She’s picked up the pen again recently, and I wanted to share: two poems and a story.  Enjoy!

Deep night

that warm weight
in your soul
as she sleeps
you wake
fly again.

The Guardian

I said
“but nobody looks after moms.”
We dry tears
and wipe noses
and kiss scraped knees and boo boo fingers
and pick them up
and lift them to
their feet
our arms
our shoulders;
we hush
and we rock
and we sing
and we watch
and we guard
and we defend
and we tend
and we make
it all better
but nobody looks after us.
He said simply
“I do.”

So, the story.  Wednesday, I am wandering in the mall and I go into a make-up store to buy blush to make me (ha) look young again.  And while I’m there the man helping me is telling me about taking care of my skin.  I suspect he is trying to sell me more stuff, so I try to avoid this.  But he insists on putting on at least this lip treatment to help my chapped lips.  Ok, Ok.  I get out of there fast.  But as I continue shopping, I realize my lips feel great.  Really great.  It tastes yummy, and when I look in the mirror in the dressing room, I see that they look great too.  Nice and flush pink and not a bit dry or chapped, and not sticky or gummy.  So I go back and I tell the guy I want whatever he put on them!  As he is ringing me up, he tells me he’s happy he could make me feel better and that he likes to take care of people.  He says he is always urging his kids and friends to take care of themselves and making them moisturize, etc.  I laugh and tell him I’m a mom, and who takes care of moms?  Ha.  He looks at me square and says “I guess I do.”  Would it seem weird to say that right then I felt as if God were saying it?  I guess if I’m too dense to get it, He has to find new ways, even if that means speaking to me through a make-up salesman!