My first bra made me self-conscious,
all nipples and scratchiness,
much like wearing my first bikini
(never again!) or my first time
skating in hired boots; my first kiss,
trying not to crash teeth,
dribble saliva or miss target completely;
my first (and only) dinner party,
or meeting other parents and toddlers
when mine was having the mother
of all tantrums; when another
mother’s child spotted my first wrinkles,
or the first time I looked in a shop mirror
and thought is that really me?
I wonder if it’s the same for trees
when their buds are exposed
in spring’s first green shimmer,
or when autumn’s chlorophyll ebbs
and leafless bark is exposed in the glimmer
of fading sun through mist.
Kim M. Russell, 27th September, 2019
My poem for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Weekend Mini Challenge: Maladroit, also linked to Poets United Poetry Pantry
I’m hosting the Mini Challenge this weekend with one of those words that I often come across when reading, words that I would love to use in a poem and which I write down for future reference. The word is ‘maladroit’, and it has been used by poets before, for example Charles Baudelaire and Rebecca Kingswell.
This weekend, we are writing new poems about clumsiness and awkwardness with the title ’Maladroit’.