Nothing but Mother
After birth, I am all at once at home
and out of place. Every task now a
luxury of time. I want to spend all
day with the baby, I want to spend
all day alone. This month I have done
nothing but mother, my body given
in service to a tiny human I just met.
Still, the baby’s breath rises and falls,
her hand on my neck. I am a planet, a
universe. And even though nothing
else has been done, I imagine all great
things began with someone who
stopped their own orbit for a moment
in time to do nothing at all but mother.
Copyright © 2023 Hannah Napier Rosenberg
Hannah Napier Rosenberg writes semi-to-very autobiographical poetry and prose and loves writing as a way to connect to others through shared experiences. She is particularly interested in using words to find magic in the ordinary. You can find her on Instagram @hannahrowrites, online at hannahrowrites.com and get in touch via email at firstname.lastname@example.org.