Thursday, November 17, 2011

Fevering and Teething

Baby's home with slight fever and swollen legs from her four month injections yesterday - damn Western medicine and its healing ways - and teething, to top it off. So we are reading a few poems by James Stevenson. Mama likes these:

Coming or Going

The screen door screeches.
The screen door slams.
Coming or going,
Going or coming,
The sounds are the same.

But what a difference
It makes to me --
Your going away,
Your coming home.


When the moment comes
When you can tell
The sky is blue, not black,
You'll see torn bits of it
Scattered through the trees,
Fallen like confetti,
As if to say
Night is not forever--

In fact, within one hour,
A grand parade is coming
With white clouds marching.

Wishing you will feel better this morning, Darling, as Mama goes off to work and you slip off to dreamland at Christine's. I love you.

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