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Poem: Motherhood & Maple Syrup 

I can’t quite locate myself beneath this maple syrup dripped shirt
Pull a long strand of dyed brown hair from my mouth
Tiny, needy arms fling themselves around my thigh
Tears mix with pancake at the corner of her mouth
I get on my knees
I hold her hands
I think,
If I could steal ten minutes
I would:
Take a walk
Eat the leftover bacon
Read a page in the library book that’s overdue
Maple syrup dripped on that, too.

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Monique Fretto.


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