Three Orange Nasturtiums

by Britt Kaufmann

Three orange nasturtiums in an almost-
three-year-old's small fist.

They were not picked from my flower beds,
as I have mantra-ed ad nauseum at her,
but from her own pot on the porch
where she may pick as she pleases.

I had assumed after two baths already today,
she'd been making mud soup again

out there, while I tried to wrestle diapers
on the babes –- twin crawlers, who
have all the makings of streakers.

When I'd managed a split-decision victory,
I stayed down on the floor, beaten
by the day.

                     Head cocked to the side, she
presents them to me:
"I picked these for my precious mother."

I rise then, try to find a vase perfect enough.




Britt Kaufmann is a stay-at-home mom with three children: a three-year-old poet daughter and twin sons who are one. To help her stay sane, she co-hosts a monthly women's poetry reading, Eve's Night Out, in the mountains of North Carolina. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Western North Carolina Woman, Mothering, Shemom, Artists for Peace, Justice & Civil Liberties, Rapid River, and The Mennonite. Her poetry chapbook, Grace, was published by Pinchpenny Press.