They both get growing pains in their arms and legs.
I feed them, quite a lot, and run them baths, and rub their backs, but there is nothing I can do to ease the stretching in their bones.
I remember my own growing pains, and the hot water bottle I'd tuck between my aching ankles.
It is not easy to grow into these bodies, as natural as they may seem...
This week I found a truly lovely poem by an old friend of mine, Marlys West. It seems apropos to this morning's musings.
Enjoy, everyone, and happy Friday...
Here Is the Church
-- Marlys West
They had never spoken
to me before, save one, once, when a basketball jammed
its knuckle and for three days straight that finger
shouted and wept,
wept and shouted,
fat and purple, full of anger. This night
was different. I heard a tiny song from
deep inside the neat, white bones, unlike any melody I knew
and not unpleasant.
(Read the rest here...)
Visit Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect for more poems today...