Between The Lines :: Karen O'Connor
FINGERPRINTS (On Canvas) :: Karen O'Connor
about the book

Being your mother

I eat the things you spit out
I bend to your will
at night when I hold you
my shoulders breaking
from the strain
of your two-year
two-stone body
like my ribs will crack
and turn to dust
deep inside a place
I never knew existed
I sing, my breath catching
in my throat
your fingers instinctively
milking mine
settling into sleep
and still I hold you
pull you close
my muscles burn
the night ploughs on
but you and I are still suspended
in my mother's arms
her fingers curling in my hair
her breath, like mine
breathing in with yours
so close, I often think
itís you are holding both of us.

All Poems © Karen O'Connor 2011 - No works can be redistrubted for public use without prior consent from the author

about the book

Irish Poets :: Karen O'Connor FINGERPRINTS (On Canvas) Karen O'Connor - biography Karen O'Connor - gallery Karen O'Connor - contact