Posted by in Cricket, Ella, Motherhood, pregnancy | 1 Comment


I Wear My Stretchmarks Like Tattoos

to show
I am a woman
whose belly has billowed
a mainsail on a pirate ship
on its way to treasure
a queen-size-bed topsheet
on a new clothesilne in March

they make
silver parantheses
around my freckled navel
tiny river tributaries
from the cold spring of my joy
pattern rising to the touch
like fired-rice-grain china

and oh
the way the sunlight catches
above my hipline skirts
when the music births itself again
and I start moving I start
moving and with my daughter

-Katharyn Howd Machan

One Response to Today

  1. What a great Mother’s Day thought.

    (Yesterday my almost-13-yo son said, “Too bad all mothers sexually abuse their children when they’re born.” He’s at an age where the whole intimacy of childbirth is mildly freaky. So I pointed out that actually giving birth to and feeding babies is what women’s bodies are FOR and all the other crap our society dishes about women’s bodies is the real problem…who knows what sunk in.)

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