Deborah McClean


Milk and Honey

It’s 22:37 and I look
down and see you.
You’ve had another hard day;
I’m not surprised you look so sad.

I’m sure you are thinking
of the good old days;
those days when you were idle;
those days when you were framed in soft fabrics: lace and satin.
Loved and fawned.

You see, my loves,
it doesn’t feel like it
but you are now
the most important part of me.

I love you so much more
because you love the angry little mouth that want want wants NOW.

Now now now now!

So. I’m sorry
that sometimes you get angry; sometimes you throb
and weep
and split yourself;
grieving for those gentle fawning days.

But I’ve stopped wishing for those good old days,
because the golden days are here:

I am now the land of milk and honey,
and you, my dears, are her life-givers.





Deborah McClean is an Irish poet living in Bristol. She now eats cake and writes poetry one-handed due to the arrival of her first baby. Deborah lives in a house with a percolator and a husband.

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