I should be studying.

But instead I’m here delighting you with a poem I find magnificent. More consistent blogging after finals. Promise.

These Hips 

Some hips are made for bearing 
children, built like stools 
square and easy, right 
for the passage of birth. 

Others are built like mine. 
A child’s head might never pass 
but load me up with two-by-fours 
and watch me 

When the men carry sacks of concrete 
they hold them high, like boys. 
I bear mine low, like a girl 
on small, strong hips 
built for the birth 
of buildings. 

by Kate Braid

And here’s a picture of Luke being cute…for good measure. Lol.

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