Sunday, February 21, 2010

Sunday 160: Stopwatch

First water breaks, then light.
Count breaths, wakings, milkflow, for two
every 4 minutes on the watch.

After 16 years
I count daily moments
together before sunset
Sunday 160 challenge, write a story or poem in exactly 160 characters.
Like a text message, the Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces)
Keep on schedule - post Sunday
Let Monkey Man know you have posted via a comment HERE

Visit at least one other Sunday 160


  1. Which is harder the birthing or the daily count?

  2. Lovely. I really like Haikus.

    Sorry I am late but here I am.


  3. Haiku 160. I don't think I could withstand that challenge. Beautifully mastered. Thanks for playing.

  4. I was visiting Mona and saw this poem that you posted for her. It is so lovely, I just wanted to tell you that.
    Life goes by so fast and we should never take for granted our life partner.
    Thank you for that lovely poem.

    Take threads from the flannel shirt he wore,
    The plaid one you remember, the favorite.
    It has anemone-feathered holes which let in a cold draft,
    Its red and grey pattern too faded for beauty.
    Keep the velvety pieces of solid weave,
    With a trace of fragrance of flesh, musk and oily hair.
    Search the earth for strands of jeweled color,
    Threads of carbon strength and unvanishing length.
    Collect them egg-like, carefully and separately:
    To keep them from rashfully tangling,
    Losing distinction to your eye or usefulness.
    Weave them mindfully together with the old patches.
    Sew even seams between yours and his.
    Cautiously line up edges without ridges,
    For a satin-smooth, sigh-soft wrap,
    Barely felt at all,
    But warm, so warm
    That cold cannot enter.

    My goodness, that is so lovely I almost kept my husband from going out the door just now so I could spend a few more precious minutes with him.
    Thank you

  5. Love the movement of this, managed in only 160 spaces and characters. Amazing.

  6. You have a flair for this. I can picture you...are you scribbling on paper? Are you composing at the keyboard? I see you with a tablet. You're a wonderful mom, to write poetry about the experience.