Mothering by Scent

by Ona Gritz

Bring me the bedding that held his sleep
and blind I’d know it as his.
Pungent smell with an acrid edge,
like delicious food just starting to turn.
Since infancy, his skin was a sponge--
milk-sweet meant he’d eaten fruit,
face powder scent, he’d been in his Grandma’s arms.
Now cold cheeks smelling of sun,
a game of chase in the school yard.
And fever--
it’s there in the doorway,
sourdough bread and the oven on all afternoon.
He scolded me once at eighteen months,
“I am not a flower!”
First metaphor, I’d write in his baby book
after just one more breath of my boy.

Ona Gritz is the author of two children?s books, Starfish Summer (HarperCollins, 1998) and Tangerines and Tea (Harry N. Abrams, forthcoming 2004). Her poetry has appeared in many publications, including Ekphrasis, Moment, Poetry East, Heresies, and online in Literary Mama and The Plum Ruby Review. Her work is also forthcoming in Poetica. Ona lives in Hoboken, New Jersey with her son, Ethan and painter, Ed Tadiello.