napowrimo day 9

by larapayne

Baskets

Measuring growth by sleeve and by foot, we sort clothes.
Colored lumps pillow the floor. What still fits, what doesn’t,
and what will. Projection of how my milk will combine
with spinach, bread, eggs and her other favored foods.

The child imagined is a magical being,
the child realized is a force. Remembered
origins. Animal body. Revise our
parental perspective. Sudden sympathy

and resentment overlap as messily
as these clothes, some stained with
paint or peas. Will there be another?
we never say it aloud. But it is here,
in these piles. Kept. We are suspended

after our holiday dinner, eggs gather
plastic and easily cracked, in baskets below
us. Maples helicopter the sky. Next
year’s possibility for discard or growth.

***

Thank you to my friends who cheered me to continue!!!

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