Poeming on a Thursday


finding my way back to fierceness


before he was born
i walked the streets
at night, without fear,
my little white dog
stopping to sniff
the prostitutes
while i said hello
(grace matters)
but after his birth
my self expanded
beyond me

                  i was him and you       
                  and every child, everyone       
                  and we all needed soothing

and so i became
more of that self
gentle,
soothing,
graceful
quiet

and less fierce
less fiery
less willing
to walk alone
at night

and that was
necessary
the enwombing
of my mothering
self, my infant
soothing self.

and now
seven years later
i am finding
my fierce again

mowhawking my hair

shaving out some of the safety

so i can walk again
without fear
so i can lead him
to do the same
growing his
independence
day by month by year

our fierceness a bright
beacon of peace in the night.

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This poem was written earlier this week as part of my 52 Weeks Poeming Project, after a first draft that was written a few months ago by hand in my journal. My recent hair cut added a new edge to this poem which I think it (and I) needed. 

If you'd like to join me in writing a poem a week (with prompts and a lot of support), you can join at any time. Your 52 weeks start when you do. 

____________________________

I don't talk much about my - now dead/ gone - "little white dog" anymore. He disappeared out of our backyard in Mobile four years ago. I still miss him, he was my first "baby." But, not having pets has turned out to be a Good Thing for my wee family  (because we have more freedom to travel/ explore and don't need to walk anyone in the sketchy part of town, or in the snow) but I do miss having a dog or cat to snuggle. We weigh the options and make choices: c'est la vie.