Another mother poem: eating the apple
May 13, 2010
EATING THE APPLE
The first time
I spoon applesauce
your long shiver
makes me laugh
one bite, then
you turn away
this new flavor
not yet familiar
in my imagination
I'm introducing you
to mangoes already,
to fresh bread,
halvah and tamales,
injera and kimchi
but you're not
ready for difference
or new discovery,
hot fists clinging
to the Eden
you've always known
This week's mother poem arises out of a comment that Sue left on last week's poem, which got me thinking about (in her words) "the Eden of those early weeks of life." There's something poignant for me in thinking about what constitutes Drew's experience of a kind of Eden, where all his needs are met before he's expected or able to make his own way in the world.
I didn't manage to write to this week's Big Tent Poetry prompt, which invited us to listen to a podcast on an unfamiliar subject and then write a poem -- the only podcast or recording I listened to this week was on a subject I do know something about, which is lifecycle rituals -- but here's a link to this week's "come one, come all" post where folks are leaving links to their poems in comments.