Poetry & Words

of cedarwood, acorns, and being 30 weeks

it smells sweetly of cedarwood inside these walls, cedarwood intermingled with the invigorating scents of eucalyptus and tea tree oil. such is the unintended result of a having discovered a few jumpy fleas on the little dog. it was doggie spa, last night, with freshly laundered dog beds and toys and blankets, and a long soapy doggie scrubdown in the tub. he’s a pile of fluffiness today, a little walking diffuser of cedarwood oil.

outside, there are various engine rumbles and engine stalls, alternating between a sputtering and a roar without any sort of pattern or rythmn. little dog reacts with a muffled cross between a bark and a sigh. the oak trees stubbornly cling to their leaves, hesitant to drop even one aged and crumbling leaf. the acorns, on the other hand, eagerly leap down, one after another, until the patio rings with their staccato descent to freedom.

the sample ballot lies open beside me.  tiny little ovals ask for my yes or no, and i get lost in the pros and cons.

inside my womb, our little girl stretches and turns and kicks. she pushes up against my hand resting across my stomach, as if to say hello.  i smile. it’s hard to believe it has already been 30 weeks.  only 10 weeks to go.

i can’t wait to meet you, little girl!!

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