{"id":18252,"date":"2016-08-13T10:16:04","date_gmt":"2016-08-13T14:16:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=18252"},"modified":"2016-08-13T19:37:57","modified_gmt":"2016-08-13T23:37:57","slug":"blue","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2016\/08\/blue\/","title":{"rendered":"blue"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>she couldn&#8217;t remember not being the midwife<\/p>\n<p>for the goats, sheep, llamas<\/p>\n<p>cows seemed to go off too far on their own for the birthings<\/p>\n<p>she, totem to the totems<\/p>\n<p>wore a green apron at the birthing<\/p>\n<p>with a pocket for all her colors<\/p>\n<p>and another pocket for the jar of molasses she gave the mommas as a final reward<\/p>\n<p>sometimes a final sendoff<\/p>\n<p>leaving a licorice scent on\u00a0momma&#8217;s final\u00a0breath<\/p>\n<p>then, she would take the momma&#8217;s babies<\/p>\n<p>clean them herself with the green apron<\/p>\n<p>then find another momma<\/p>\n<p>squeeze some of\u00a0that momma&#8217;s\u00a0milk into what was left\u00a0in the molasses jar<\/p>\n<p>and put that mixture on the new babies&#8217; heads<\/p>\n<p>the lure of molasses and familiar scent of self securing the adoption<\/p>\n<p>only then could she bury the breathless momma<\/p>\n<p>deep into the Momma&#8217;s dirt, earth<\/p>\n<p>she&#8217;d sprinkle lilacs on top<\/p>\n<p>because lilacs and babies come together<\/p>\n<p>and lilacs and breathless momma&#8217;s float off into the wind together<\/p>\n<p>then she&#8217;d sit on the hill over the lake<\/p>\n<p>watching the sky<\/p>\n<p>and realize<\/p>\n<p>that she had just midwifed blue into the world,<\/p>\n<p>the world needed blue<\/p>\n<p>for the deepest parts<\/p>\n<p>and the highest parts<\/p>\n<p>and the lonely parts<\/p>\n<p>and the birthday parts<\/p>\n<p>so she put\u00a0blue in the pocket of her apron with the other colors<\/p>\n<p>and cried<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>she couldn&#8217;t remember not being the midwife for the goats, sheep, llamas cows seemed to go off too far on their own for the birthings she, totem to the totems wore a green apron at the birthing with a pocket for all her colors and&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":803,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18252","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18252","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/803"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18252"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18252\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18422,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18252\/revisions\/18422"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18252"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18252"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18252"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}