NaPoWriMo 15

I made the mistake of watching four hours of horrifying coverage from Boston today, and of course the incident is heavy on my mind. I sat on the couch nursing my son when the story came across my Twitter feed, and I turned on the TV to watch the news. Big mistake. I have no desire to write some sort of tragedy poem tonight. Anything I say at this point would be both angry and (likely) cliche. So, here's something hopeful.


To be kind

His fingernails are razors
but trimming them is his dad's job now
because I fear clipping his finger again.
I let the wild wolverine pup attached to my breast
rake a layer or two of skin off my chest.
Later I read him books 
(he likes my voice right now)
about the adventures
of fairies and bears
and being kind to crocodiles.
The most important lesson,
I think,
to be kind
(but cautious of crocodiles).
But I know books aren't going to do it.
I contemplate the lesson of kindness
and if we are good enough to teach it to him.
And how it goes hand-in-hand with bravery
and I am not brave
but I would like to be.
And when I think of all the things I want my wolverine to be
the word kind emerges every time,
swinging over my head like a colorful plastic link
and I am reaching
hoping to grasp it and hand it to him.