—Sue Crisp, Shingle Springs, CA
It’s here...it’s here!
The months of waiting
for nearly a year.
The tiny calf seemed to
take its time to appear.
Wet and wobbly
on its newborn legs,
for nursing, it begs.
Its mother, ever watchful
for any dangerous prey.
Today is for rejoicing,
her babe was born today.
Have to miss taking Mom out to eat or even for tea
because restaurants are only open for take-out
but I can’t afford delivery or “cater”
and she doesn’t want me hanging around to cook
She only lives down the street from me
but I can only see her by talking on the phone
like I’m staying someplace far away
(The same goes this time for my brother and his wife
and their two teenage sons)
to rule out me possibly giving her the virus
Indeed church also isn’t open for Sunday services
So no seeing friends there to give her flowers
I could get her some groceries from an open store
I’ve been doing her shopping for her anyway
and maybe they’ll sell a potted cactus—
Mom doesn’t like cut flowers that die soon
she likes either cactus or succulents to plant in her garden
I could write her song or poetry
but she’s said before that’s just too “sappy"
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA
The U.S Constitution proclaims “life” comes before “liberty”
These founders somehow realized one cannot have “liberty” without first being given life
For this we should also thank God indeed for our mothers’ “sacrifice” in giving birth to us
—Linda Klein, Los Angeles, CA
We are looking for the Pink Moon
to transport us from a dark, narrow passage.
Here, lost in a place we never thought we'd be,
confined, for some, perhaps, for life.
We don't know the way out, and
neither how, nor why we are here.
The full Pink Moon, her coral arms outstretched,
reaches to embrace us, to lead us toward familiar roads.
She is the mother who left her babes too soon,
against her will, to deal with strange circumstance.
Now we catch a glimpse of her,
tears fill her golden eyes.
We approach her with eager hearts,
remembering the comfort we found in her arms
when we were innocent and
unaware of any need for fear.
—Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
A woman gave me her breast
When I had no teeth
And she fed me.
She gave me
What I needed
And could not get
On my own.
Her breasts were soft
And sometimes, firm.
A change went on
While I was nursing,
Before she pulled one breast
And gave me the other.
Sometimes, I started on one side
And sometimes, the other.
Since I was not a twin
I did not have to share
With a sister or brother.
I came to form a link
Between a woman’s sounds
I filled her
With our babies
And to them,
I fed her.
THE MOTHER OF INTENTION
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
do what I say, more than I do
you are the inverter
for my solar panels
you only have one job
take that natural energy
and feed a power strip
it is okay to cower in your
Faraday cage while you work
hard meeting our needs
do your best to avoid flares,
coronal mass ejections, or
that lurk like dark alley thugs
ready to shut you down
and leave you powerless
oh, my dear baby
I think the world of you
now get back to work!
"Being a mother is dealing with strengths you didn't know
you had, and fears you didn't know existed."
A moment of compulsion
pregnancy to term
a lifetime of compassion
both good and bad germs
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.