I have no juice, no dribbles, no hands

to hold me, to spin me into a rollicking orbit

on the floor, no click on the highchair rim,

rolling back and forth, back and forth,

milk, streaming from my open lip—

in tune to the toddler’s laughter.

I remember the mother turning away

from the kitchen sink – no laughter,

not even a smile, just a glare

and a “Nooooo, you know you’re not…”

Her scolding words fade as she stands

alone now. The silence of the kitchen

swallows her breath.

Marcia J. Pradzinski has authored two books of poetry, Left Behind, and As One Day Slips Out of the Shoe of Another. Various journals, anthologies, and websites have featured her poems. Recent publications include Aeolian Harp Anthology Six, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, Highland Park Poetry, Poetica Review, among others.