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’.
writing in north norfolk 
This is so relateable – I really felt those first lines, and then the switch to pondering nature works really well. The beginning was quite stressful, and then you took me to a calm place and reminded me that life is always gently moving on.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was an awkward kid, teenager, adult – it seems to be getting worse, but I think I’ve accepted it now and can laugh at myself – Mrs Maladroit!
LikeLike
Maybe you have to be a bit self-conscious to be able to stand back and look at the world, to be able to write.
LikeLiked by 1 person
True. 😊
LikeLike
Beautiful poem. Actually was not too familiar with what maladroit actually meant before.
LikeLike
Thanks Rob.
LikeLike
I love how you draw the focus out in this poem – from the personal to the outside world
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jae.
LikeLike
Thanks for this wonderful work, this challenging prompt, and for providing me something to work on (rainy) Saturday, while I’m recuperating on the couch following my (sunny) Friday deck-staining project, for which I am ill-equipped, ill-prepared, reluctant to begin, and fully convinced that my efforts will be seen to be, at best, maladroit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Ron. I look forward to reading yours once you’ve stained the deck. Good luck with that! 🙂
LikeLike
I love how you turned this around at the end! The descriptions of the subtle changes from youth to age is very relate-able.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kerry!
LikeLike
This is so poignant! ❤ I resonate with the feelings attached to wearing one’s first bra and “all nipples and scratchiness” that comes along with it. I swear I wanted to throw my bra away initially when I was getting used to it haha 😊 Beautifully rendered, Kim! ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Sanaa!:)
LikeLike
I liked the gentle tone of this. The tying it to trees going through their natural cycles is a lovely way to reassure the reader that awkward feelings are natural and to be expected at certain points, and eventually they too will pass.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Rommy. I can’t remember ever not feeling awkward! But it’s nice to know there are other people who feel the same.
LikeLike
The alien reflected face…this is wonderful, start to finish. We can never quite fit ourselves into the world. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kerfe.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such a relatable poem. All of us women can certainly relate to that first bra! But I really love how you take it from the person to the universal when you go to nature. I don’t think trees ever feel awkward. They are always some comfortable where they are. I think we have a lot to learn from them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can’t imagine any plants getting awkward either. I wonder if animals do? Or is it only a human thing? Maybe it is.
LikeLike
I like this a lot, Kim. I relate to first times, I have blog labels for first time, every now and then I post on something. I remember a lot of the first times for eating a certain food. Kissing? I think it was in the first grade but I can’t remember that instant. We had an intimate place down in the storm cellar. I do remember the first time I kissed with a girl wearing glasses.
..
LikeLiked by 1 person
😉
LikeLike
Trees are lucky they have no eyes. We on the other hand can see and as humans are critical rather than appreciative after first seeing ourselves reflected in a pond or passing stream.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So true, Robin.
LikeLike
Ah! The maladroit of life itself. You’ll be glad to know that we’re all in the same boat.😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
kaykuala
One can imagine the endless occasions when things get thrown in throes of awkwardness and confusion. Maladroit stands tall in encompassing all of them. Well crafted Kim!
Hank
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Hank! I’ll be back later to read and comment.
LikeLike
You certainly touched on several of my many awkward moments! This is beautifully composed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Helen! I’ll be back in the morning to read and comment again.
LikeLike
I wonder how much the awkwardness of living follows us all through our life… and I always wonder if there are those who are immune to that feeling (probably only the narcissist)…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m still awkward, even on line when my fingers won’t work and hit the wrong keys! You’re right about narcissists.
LikeLike
Perfectly set and the question you with gives the poem a surprising heft. Is maladroit a purely human rawness because its so hard for us to be what we are?
LikeLiked by 1 person
When I’m reborn, I’d love to be a tree!
LikeLike
So much to love about this poem- the fact that it brought up “Oh, I should have written about my mother hanging my itsy bitsy bras on the clothesline and the school bus drives by, the fact that for YEARS we had a sign that advertised “Free Manure” in our front field, and of course… that first kiss. Oh my. Loved this AND then you rocked it by using nature as a metaphor… Lovely all around.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There’s been so much awkwardness in my life and now I have a garden full of trees!
LikeLike
I had to share it to my FB page 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Margaret! 🙂
LikeLike
I love this poem so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Sherry!
LikeLike
Oh I just love the thought of trees feeling awkward as autumn and winter pass – wonderful image!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Rajani!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s amazing how we can see the beauty of nature no matter her season and yet struggle to see it within ourselves. (I literally just had that same experience with a shop mirror the other day… I looked up to see myself reflected head to toe and was surprised by what I saw)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, and often we don’t see ourselves as others do. A skewed perspective that most of us live with all our lives.
LikeLike
What a delightful poem! I enjoyed it all, and especially how you wound it up with the comparison to the tree’s buds! I will not look at a budding tree in the same way again. And, ah, those other firsts….so relatable!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m delighted you enjoyed it, Mary!
LikeLike
I just love where you took the poem at the end. I, too, have wondered about what goes on in the mind of trees, about how our behaviors would change if we were/felt more like them. Many times, I’ve suspected that they welcome the naked rest of autumn… while anticipating springs knew sprouts. Change is an embraced blessing, I feel.
Also, the language of your poem, especially at the beginning, reminds me Caitlin Moran’s work. Quite fitting, too, since you introduced to her writings.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Magaly! I was worried it was too unlike my usual style, but it isn’t really, it’s just more like my writing when I was younger.😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, a perfect beginning to a poem both relatable and, in that ending, curious. I’m taking that question, tucked in my back pocket, to the park next time I go write under the now drifting leaves.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Wyndolynne.
LikeLike
All those firsts are certainly awkward. I love the transition to the trees Kim.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Linda.
LikeLiked by 1 person
back again – ha ha. Yes, I have six kids and its lovely when they have the “mother of all tantrums” in public… Seems sweet from a distance of many years!
LikeLiked by 1 person
My grandson has recently started to have tantrums, only at home so far. My daughter is in for a shock when he does!
LikeLike
You’ve struck a really engaging, authentic, somewhat conversational tone here … a woman, women would enjoy having a conversation with. The woman/season reflection was wonderful. A pleasure to read.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly, Wendy.
LikeLike
I love this stream of consciousness poem~ So, much insight shared as I read and connect to your vision~
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Ella.
LikeLike
I like the rueful humour … and I feel sure trees are much moire philosophical about such things. (Only humans could be so silly as we are.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
*more.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Rosemary. You’re right about humans, although, I’ve seen my cats looking awkward from time to time!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So many “firsts” in life! So many ways to pay tribute to them!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this. You have captured human vulnerability so vividly with the mere mention of these firsts. Really well done!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
What a wonderful poem, Kim! As opposed to humans, I think trees are always very comfortable in their own bark.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sara. Trees are so cool.
LikeLike
Beautifully written
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Harry.
LikeLike