I sat down to write a Thankful Thursday post & this is what happened instead. I knew I wasn't really in charge around here!
January
January is my mother
with her hand on my head
gently holding me in place.
I won’t be running out
into the road on her watch!
She is humming some
somnolent tune and
although I am awake
I feel my eyes slide shut,
feel them slide sideways
looking for that aproned lap.
I’ll just rest a while
here in the womb
of the year.
The Bug
1/12/12
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"...humming some somnolent tune..." is one gorgeous phrase, my love. Adore the last sentence, too.
ReplyDeleteIf January really IS my mother, then the tune she's humming is Que Sera Sera :)
ReplyDeleteQuite a lovely poem. I can really visualize it. I also love January but I've never thought about it in this way. That's the power of poetry, I think.
ReplyDeleteI've never quite thought of January in quite this way. Usually it's not my favorite month, but you sway me with your words.
ReplyDeleteA nice view of January. I see your comment here about Que Sera Sera. My Mom used to sing that song. :)
ReplyDeleteYou are such a talented poet, Bug. Thanks for that.
ReplyDelete'the womb of the year' - such a great line and a beautiful poem, The Bug:)
ReplyDeleteGorgeous poem. I loved it.....
ReplyDeleteaw...that was beautiful!
ReplyDelete"I’ll just rest a while
ReplyDeletehere in the womb
of the year."
I love that line. I love January and February. What a beautiful poem. One of my favorites.
love it
ReplyDeleteWell said, dear Bug!
ReplyDeleteI love this one and it rings so true, especially on our sunny but cold January mornings.
ReplyDeleteExcellent! Stunning last line.
ReplyDeleteI think Poetry enjoys slipping sideways into some grotto, surprising us like this. You did well to capture "January is my mother" on the trip.
ReplyDeleteNice! :)
ReplyDelete