more grief and loss

Well, that’s the way it is.

The picture is from Lake Matinenda in Ontario.

In the warm

In the warm

I am here in the warm.
The thumper.
Sometimes it is fast.

I am in the warm.
The thumper.
The loud swish thing.
I kick it.
Loud place, I kick.
I am running out of room.
I push.

I push.
Thumper wild.
Thumper fast.
I have no room and now it is squeezing!
Stop squeezing! Pushing me! I want room! Room!

Ahhh! Bright!
Noisy! No warm! Cold!
Things touch me! Room! But no warm!

I am warm but not wet.
Bright. Wrapped.
Here is thumper.
I cough. No wet, something else. Air.
I want. Oh, thumper. Oh, mouth on warm, milk.

Here is room.
Thumper and others.
I know others. They are fast.
They are noisy.
That one is the one that held the swish thing. I kick.
Thumper and those are big.
These two are small, I am smaller.
Noisy! I like them.
I am getting used to light and dark.
More room. Milk. Air.

I know names. I have hands like others.
I can chew my hand.
My hands don’t work like theirs.
My noise doesn’t work either.
Not like brothers. Thumper is mom.
Other big is father.
Other bigs come and go.
I want my noise and hands to work!
I keep practicing.

I keep practicing

I took the photograph of my daughter in 1998. This is scanned. I may try with another scanner….