napowrimo day 13

by larapayne

Blossom Moon


Sudden bud and bloom,

this season I barely noticed

last year. Birth came fast and hard

and left me torn, bruised, but with

an extraordinary sense of instinct. I used


to be rather cerebral. Theories, -ism’s,

and theologies dripped from my

tongue. Then this: a resetting

of the self. Unable to pretend


to be anything but mammalian. Something

I was good at without study or practice.

Giving suck, giving milk. Lactation

is often messy, starts painful, and then reaches

some place of calm. We retreat


to the overgrown arbor of the arboretum,

my just turned one year old, and I.

As I settle into shadow, I discover

why this space is deserted. Bumblebees

swoop and careen, so numerous


that two run into each other, fall

to the stones in a furry yellow tumble,

and then re-air. I surrender myself

to stillness and trust that we

are not what they want. She drinks, she wiggles,


and bees continue to stumble through air. She

pulls herself up into an almost stand. We

have a name for the look a baby gets

when she has recently fed: milk drunk.

These bees are overcome with this sudden


spring. Sun drunk, pollen drunk. We revel

in what nature provides after a long and hard winter.