.
“goodness” i text, staring at her bleeding finger/tiP/nail/shaRpCuT
“did you see a doctor?” “looks worse than it is” she types, “snipped off the dead skin & i am fine” (her father’s daughter–)
tim writes “you got more balls than some boys i know–“ “ahem–“
i get a coffee, hair a tousled fun fair & she tells me how they got the horses back that wandered off cause someone didn’t close the gate.
i slice an orange, juice trailing along a sleepy pulsing vein //against the this-and-that box leans her postcard, blue/green/ yellow bird, so tightly written that they had to bend the stamp around the edge onto the parrot’s head, i sigh, pour flour into a bowl, add milk and eggs, a dash of salt& watch it melt// fluid expanding moonshape in a butter-yellow lake
“hey, you’re baking pancakes?” hubs wraps arms around my tail “soulfood” & i’m back, a stiff breeze slapping with both fists against my chest, mudflat hiking the north sea, billion-bucket-rain whips needle pins into our legs, her foot cut by a seashell // still an hour back to shore, i try to carry her & caN’t//”i’m fine mom” & she bites her lips and walks, shivering with each step// panes fog up as we collapse into the car &back in the apartment, freshly showered, giggling and exhausted on my lap, i cook tea and kaiserschmarrn
“you’re a brave girl”
“gotta go and milk the goats” she waves //
“have fun”
& i pour apple sauce onto the morning’s smiling face
.
Sam has us write prose poems for MTB at dVerse today… doors open at 3pm EST..
It’s always so nice to hear about your kids. They are strong like their mom. I like the prose approach. Pancakes sound great.
i like the in and out of now and history…of that time together and trying to carry her….and couldnt…no more than you can now…in the letting go…in the letting them…the last line is exquisite as well…smiles.
Claudia, your poetic observations fit well in the prose format. ~
This is a delight to read. Now I want pancakes….with applesauce! Haven’t even written mine yet.
When you’ve gotta go milk the goats, you’ve gotta go milk the goats!
Eierkuchen und Apfelmus … I remember … smiles …
Interesting how some kids like to be pampered while others will always offer a strong front. Your daughter seems to belong to the second category.
Now I want to eat pancakes! I guess pancake day is next week.
Lovely. Love prose poetry.
Mmmm, Kaiserschmarr’n! Only thing better (and richer) than those are Topfenpalatschinken mit Vanillesauce… Or, as we used to say: you cannot grow up in Vienna and not like your desserts…
Brave girl you have, although sometimes it’s nice to be needed…
What a wonderful story. Your girl seems to be doing perfectly fine..being self sufficient is usually a good thing (when they can’t be carried any longer) The way you describe making pancakes is making me hungry. Very hungry. Moons in a butter lake… Mmmm
Everything good is pancakes! They are the vortex around which spin the arms here, the voice and image there, and the analogous past. I love the photo. This time you have painted the picture in words instead. (I’ve missed visiting here, Claudia!)
An interesting series of events penned here, Claudia. Seems your words have many hungry for pancakes. Me too, though I just ate my morning bagel. Perhaps you have a subject for another poem in your words about getting the horses back after someone didn’t close the gate?
Don’t know how but you always pull a different magical card out of your sleeve. I love the rhythm an flow. Many thanks.
Greetings from London.
She sure seems to do fine on her own, whatever comes just faces it and away she goes.
Always seems to be a shock as we observe or grown children, and they carry on weeks at a time without our counsel, our decisions, our hugs; a lovely prose poem. I firmly believe that the prose I write/have written/will write has always been poetic; it’s how I do it, how I see the world; as do you!
She is indeed her mother’s daughter…there is a strong spirit in that young lady. 🙂 A delightful read.
I have definitely missed reading you Claudia; your writing always unique & tangible in such surprising ways. Happy to be reading the dVerse crew again today. ~Rhonda
What a delightful memoir-cum-prose poem. You’ve made me hunger for pancakes!
Lovely Claudia. I googled kaiserschmarrn and this is something I will have to try!
Anna :o]
It’s amazing how far we can go when we start to daydream…and then “I’m back”. We mothers always worry for our “little ones” even when they aren’t so little anymore…sigh…
How expertly you bring us into your day, your phone call, your kitchen and all the love that’s served there. Sending it right back to you!
In many ways modern communications are a blessing, but they also intensify the worry about those being far away. I admire your presentation of the story in the p-p format.
common place but so out-of-the-ordinary… lovely
This is so lovely, warm and cozy. I love the description of the stamp wrapping around the parrot’s head.. and the horses that got out and milking the goats, and everything in between.
like this Claudia
all of it
Hey, Claudia — this works very well as prose poetry– and as a kind of love poetry too–one feels all this brimming love going off the edge of the post card. k.
i felt every emotion you did as I read this..and.how cute she is! The ties that bind are so strong we are reluctant to sever them even though we know we must…your prose poetry full of magic and humor to cut through the scariness of it
Very nice time with family…, and prose/poem – your original form.xx
Claudia, your poetic prose is both delightful and delicious… so pleasant to be invited into your kitchen… and your memories!
Nice conversation……. Done beautiful
Apple sauce—ah, yumm. It is always adorable & delightful to read you write about your kids & the little flaws they share in life. Priceless!
A strong and beautiful girl you have Claudia. I remember when one of mine stood on an oyster shell and having to carry her ashore, then to a doctors for stitches…they hurt! A mistress of imagery you are my lady.
This has a beautiful dream quality to it, right in the midst of daily living. Delightful! And your daughter is so lovely and admirable.
All the stream of consciousness thoughts buzzing through your head of your daughter while making pancakes and looking at her postcard …very creative moving and real !
I like your narrative prose-poem, and the movement and rhythm of it.
Ya..knowNow Claudia i love the way ya ..use..the medium to describe your experience… of ..life..the casual beauty of it..and the sacred pleasure of it..
Comes through loud and clear..all in one..and of course i always enjoy unique word and letter play..but i am patiently waiting for the numbers..;)
this is lovely…the concern through the blur of everyday life.
i love the “expanding moonshape in a butter-yellow lake” and “sleepy pulsing vein”
I agree I feel cozy and warm and see my childhood at your table! Lovely~
your pancakes made me hungry. Girls have more balls, I agree 🙂
it’s nice to read about your kids Claudia and love the way the way the poem progress through pancakes.
Like Brian said, I liked the in and out and weaving of past, further past, and present. It’s so hard when something happens to our kids..we feel so helpless even though we literally try to carry them through it. My son is having horrid asthma troubles right now. I’d take a deep breath for him if I could…
Tina @ Life is Good
A to Z Team @ Blogging From A to Z April Challenge 2014
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You’ve got to do more of these – your style fits the prose poem so well. It scans ever-so-subtly off-kilter, like a story told with your head tilted to your side, but altogether beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.