The Grandma Ramp
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Inspired by Caren Krutsinger’s poem Newborns versus Babies
THE GRANDMA RAMP
My daughter handed him to me and ran out the door without instructions.
It’s been thirty years since I’ve been this close to a cat-like scream.
The bottles hang down like bats, perky nipples and necks require help.
I play hide n seek with milk, finding pops of boobie juice in deep freeze.
Maternal mind replays ‘do not microwave’ so i run the plastic under water.
The little angel, heaven-sent, gives me no break, not today.
I release the sweetheart to the windup mobile of stars.
Finally, the soother is ready to rock n roll. I gather the infant in my arms.
The sucking sound so familiar. He downs this succulent sustenance
and falls asleep. Unnecessarily I hear a car rolling up the grandma ramp.
11/19/2018
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2018
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