{"id":201,"date":"2020-02-27T20:49:43","date_gmt":"2020-02-28T01:49:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.ams.org\/mathmamas\/?p=201"},"modified":"2020-02-27T20:49:43","modified_gmt":"2020-02-28T01:49:43","slug":"even-in-my-prime-a-poem","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.ams.org\/mathmamas\/2020\/02\/27\/even-in-my-prime-a-poem\/","title":{"rendered":"even in my prime – a poem"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>
We recently came across this original poem by Ashley Hammel, fellow academic mama, and felt the urge to share it with our readers. Thank you, Ashley, for sharing!<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

\n

i am no great beauty.<\/div>\n
even in my prime, I was<\/div>\n
cellulite and large thighs<\/div>\n
horse teeth<\/div>\n
the nose of my father’s father<\/div>\n
(the failed architect, lost to the drink)<\/div>\n
lined forehead from my early teens<\/div>\n
crows feet, stretch marks<\/div>\n
elongated foot bones and wide palms,<\/div>\n
caught at strange angles and too loud<\/div>\n
for great beauty.<\/div>\n

\n

but my breasts sustained children and<\/div>\n
my arms coaxed lovers back from the brink of death.<\/div>\n

\n

my long feet found balance when I thought I could not stand.<\/div>\n

\n

my hands have made bread<\/div>\n
bound books<\/div>\n
strapped wounds<\/div>\n
touched my father as he died<\/div>\n
carried water through the foothills of the desert<\/div>\n
broke the noses of marauders<\/div>\n
& have written,<\/div>\n
& have written.<\/div>\n

\n

my lips have carried stories that have brought the light out,<\/div>\n
they have sang songs and spoke truths to crowds that swelled<\/div>\n
and they have carried meaning in their silences well.<\/div>\n
they have given love to many, in many different ways.<\/div>\n

\n

I am no great beauty,<\/div>\n
but my eyes have witnessed power in unlikely places<\/div>\n
and have salted the earth from loss<\/div>\n
and still see through terrible fogs.<\/div>\n

\n

I am no great beauty but<\/div>\n
my house and history are stacked<\/div>\n
with beautiful things that I have made<\/div>\n
that would break your heart,<\/div>\n
and I have made a child who<\/div>\n
will run to you to comfort when<\/div>\n
he sees that you are crying,<\/div>\n

\n

and I begin to believe<\/div>\n
that beauty is<\/div>\n
the thin, strong line we use<\/div>\n

\n

to take the heads<\/div>\n
from women who will change things.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
—–<\/div>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Ashley<\/span>\u00a0Hammell has taught english, drama, social issues and most recently, how to effectively keep your mittens on while walking home from school. This\u00a0poem<\/span> fell out of one of her old notebooks when she repossessed it from her grabby 4 year old. You can find her trapped under her last baby, on her third coffee. She answers to askhouseofash@gmail.com<\/div>\n

\n

<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

We recently came across this original poem by Ashley Hammel, fellow academic mama, and felt the urge to share it with our readers. Thank you, Ashley, for sharing! i am no great beauty. even in my prime, I was cellulite … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

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