Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem- buns April 18, 2016

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:52 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

I can!  I will!

Independent spirit meets reality.

Baking after the brain injury

the cinnamon buns are tasty commas

rolling spirals a surprising impossibility.

Perhaps everything is

not

as it was.

 

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12 Responses to “poem- buns”

  1. trE Says:

    You did something remarkable here and I am glad I was around to see it:

    “the cinnamon buns are tasty commas
    rolling a surprising impossibility.”

    Lovely, as always.

  2. Change happens, but the “different” buns are still delicious.

    • Yes, but they are also an undeniable, visual representation of the change. There’s been a lot of ‘I’m fine’ and refusal to acknowledge the brain and body are not communicating. It’s the knitting needles’ or the sewing machine’s fault. This time, nothing else can be the excuse. “Something weird with the batter” doesn’t cut it.

  3. Lorien Says:

    Ummmm….have I missed something? Were you, or someone close to you, injured? Your poem made me crave cinnamon buns, by the way. Thanks a lot.

    • lol. My mom had a stroke a few months ago with a severe brain bleed.

      • Lorien Says:

        Oh dear. Healing vibes for your mom. And how are you holding up? I’m guessing a lot of extra caretaking and some serious shifts in your interactions. Hugs for you.

      • Thanks. It has been full of challenges, that’s for sure. We were told she’d be dead in a couple of weeks. She’d never walk. She’d never be able to return to her home. She’s managed to recover, through pure determination, well enough to move back home alone, but she’s not able to do so many of the things that she wanted to return to do (quilting, knitting, gardening, etc) she’s having to face up to her limitations.

      • Lorien Says:

        Ah, my dear, such an enormous role reversal. So who’s the mother now? I’m quite frankly terrified of facing such a situation with my own parents although I know these things are for the most part inevitable. The only thing I can choose is my reaction to the situation. I only hope that by the time my parents go through their profound changes I will have developed as strong a character as yours…to be able to write and speak about it with so much love, tenderness, and…humor. Again, big hugs to you.

  4. ‘Perhaps everything is not as it was’

    So true. Good poem!


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