Thursday, July 05, 2001
Gwen Harwood's cheery take on motherhood:
IN THE PARK
She sits in the park. Her clothes are out of date.
Two children bicker and whine, tug her skirt.
A third draws aimless patterns in the dirt.
Someone she loved once passes by - too late
to feign indifference to that casual nod.
"How nice," et cetera. "Time holds great surprises."
From his neat head unquestionably rises
a small balloon... "but for the grace of God..."
They stand a while in flicking light, rehearsing
the children's name and birthdays. "It's so sweet
to hear their chatter, watch them grow and thrive,"
she says to his departing smile. Then, nursing
the youngest child, sits staring at her feet.
To the wind she says, "They have eaten me alive."
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IN THE PARK
She sits in the park. Her clothes are out of date.
Two children bicker and whine, tug her skirt.
A third draws aimless patterns in the dirt.
Someone she loved once passes by - too late
to feign indifference to that casual nod.
"How nice," et cetera. "Time holds great surprises."
From his neat head unquestionably rises
a small balloon... "but for the grace of God..."
They stand a while in flicking light, rehearsing
the children's name and birthdays. "It's so sweet
to hear their chatter, watch them grow and thrive,"
she says to his departing smile. Then, nursing
the youngest child, sits staring at her feet.
To the wind she says, "They have eaten me alive."
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