7/14/2017 2 Comments Poetry by Yael D ShermanYou write what you know like the Eskimo so many words for snow I know tired exhausted sleep deprived the mountain I can't summit the glass sliding surface of my thoughts time and memory slip away there's no tracking in the wilderness it's snow all the way around I know bone-tired my body collapsing against the protests of my mind and giving in, curling on the couch freezing in the winter of sleep-loss I know sweet sleepiness the baby girl snuggled on my chest drifting in and out of igloo dreams together shared breath across both chests her plump arms around my neck I know hard tired Getting out of bed to shower, eat, prepare go to work, another day go go go no no no Push through Push through the exhaustion, the tired eyes the deadened mind, the shaky legs And go carry the ache of exhaustion and go No rest not yet I know tired I'm walking in the blizzard I know each wind, each snowflake Promising rest, the snow numbs Stop and be still Give in Married Life You know that I love you, right? I mean love in the way I want to tell you about the thing I read and I sent the article on different kinds of tribalism dividing our country so we could discuss it and how I want to share the photo I took of our adorable baby girl I mean love, in the fact that you took care of both kids while I worked and also folded and put away the laundry you remembered to get the colds out of the dryer (by which I mean the darks, which we don't say because it sounds vaguely racist) and how we did the warms together and made the bed before settling to watch the final two episodes of season 2 of Continuum I mean love, in the way we made love during nap-time and didn't worry about waking the kids and then right after, you threw on clothes because our six year old was trying to get into our bedroom and had a boo-boo while I lay in bed and langoured I mean love the way that you called the plumber and made the appointment and went home, missing work twice, to take care of it and how you planned, while you were at home, to make dinner for us And how you made the list on Sunday, so I could grocery shop I mean love, how we talked about Continuum and what the season finale meant until sleep claimed us both I mean love, how you let it go when I got mad at you for four hours over that one thing you said after I apologized once (I'm sorry it took so long for me to get over it) I mean love, the way you see the best and the worst in me the way you forgive my crankiness and craziness returning to me as I return to you I hate that lofty shit give me the grit not the slippery and slick fuck your exalted language full of hot air rising above all that is there till it recedes, green dots from trees give me the ground one tree, hunkered down roots exposed give me the dirt and I'll mulch it Bio: Yael D Sherman has published in Role Reboot, thirdspace, Feminism at The Movies, Exposing Lifestyle Television, and numerous non-profit publications. She has a doctorate in Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, and is raising two young children with her husband.
2 Comments
Rachel
7/16/2017 05:06:33 pm
Beautiful and soulful. Thank you for sharing!
Reply
Anne Rad
8/26/2017 09:17:56 pm
WOW. Sherman's work strikes a magical balance between acerbic and tender, direct and empathetic. Love her work. I hope to see more!
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
April 2024
Categories |