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
bear.
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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