FULL DAY

refuse to let go
grip my finger tight
bang your feet on the floor
blow raspberries at the sky

grip my finger tight
pop off the breast and beam
blow raspberries at the sky
toe off a small red sock

pop off the breast and beam
lie on your back and babble
toe off a small red sock
crinkle a book made of cloth

lie on your back and babble
open mouth, insert world
crinkle a book made of cloth
rub your reddening eyes

open mouth, insert world
insist you are not sleepy
rub your reddening eyes
cling to your giraffe

insist you are not sleepy
grip my finger tight
cling to your giraffe
refuse to let go

This week's big tent poetry prompt was twofold: to write a poem about anger, and to make it a pantoum. I didn't take on the suggested subject matter, but decided to adopt this form in writing this week's mother poem.

I've written pantoums before -- most notably the Torah poem Tzav Pantoum, which was later published in Frostwriting. The same thing that made the form a good fit for that section of the book of Leviticus makes the form a good fit for describing this moment in parenthood: there's an awful lot of repetition!

I wanted to evoke, with this poem, the full sweep of a day with Drew: from his excitement when he first sees me in the morning (grabbing for my finger, kicking his feet) to the eye-rubbing which tells me it's time for bed at day's end, with all of the baby-babbling and toy-rattling which comes in between.

Feel free to check out this week's "come one, come all" post so you can see what poems others have written this week.

fullday.mp3]