Culture

Poetry Corner: My Baby Cries

By Richard Wallace

My Baby Cries

Like scudding clouds,

precursors,

my bedroom ceiling

stares at me.

Hungry,

my baby cries.

*****

My husband

has gone to work.

My bedroom ceiling

stares at me.

Hungry,

my baby cries.

*****

My girlfriend

will soon be here.

Coffee and chatter,

wash my face,

hungry still

my baby cries.

*****

I nurse my baby

In the kitchen,

my blouse hangs

on my chair.

My friend

does not approve.

*****

I look at my emptied

flaccid breasts.

My baby sleeps

between them.

My friend says that

I am very brave.

Breastfeeding mother and baby

Categories: Culture

Tagged as: ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.