I dreamt I was in labor

and cooking up a storm,

a storm of food,

the birth of new ideas,

there were canapés and cakes

covering the tables,

and I was laboring,

in travail,

producing and reproducing,

a woman’s work is never done,

but I was smiling–

there was no mess to clean–

only a dream

and a poem.


This was a real dream I had the night before last.

25 thoughts on “Laboring

  1. I believe I once saw a photo of your work space in the kitchen where you produce poetry and prose and re-produce recipes. Right? I could make comments about being prolific and fertile, but I’ll resist.

    Write on!

    • Thanks, Marian. You showed admirable restraint. 🙂 Yes, I like to sit at my kitchen table, and I’m often cooking while I write. ( Usually, like right now, with a cat or two beside me.)

  2. That time when one is almost due to deliver a baby, creates the “nesting phase.” Your dream made m think of this, for some reason?! I am happy to be beyond this time in my life, Merril. Cooking up a storm may have an interesting underlying meaning behind your dream. . . 🙂

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