Mike Cohen, a poet, story 
teller, and novelist returns to the NESTER with a new poem, My Child’s Recovery From a Fall, previously unpublished. It fascinates us that each of Mike’s poems is dramatically different from the others and this poem is no exception. My Child’s Recovery From a Fall dwells on what might happen when a child lets go of the parent’s hand and climbs on monkey bars, first rides a bike without training wheels or dashes off on her own into the unknown. There’s always risk involved. Most of the writing about children’s accidents centers on the child’s experience and what is the appropriate response from the parent. Less is written about what the parent is experiencing during the event.
We resonate with this poem and so will you!
Mike’s poems, short stories and novel excerpts have appeared in several literary magazines. In addition to writing award winning short stories selected for publication, his stories have been anthologized and reviewed. Mike also authored a coming of age, legal thriller, RIVERTOWN HEROES, set in the Northwest.
Lorelie & Tim
My Child’s Recovery From a Fall
Mike Cohen
I can barely stand to regard your skinned knee;
Shuddering at the shredded flesh,
its dirt-encrusted lips grinning with tiny blood flecks;
Your wail of shaken confidence, your reddened eyes.
All these judge my parental inadequacy,
Silently accusing me of betrayal, a failure to warn,
The lack of skill to prevent this collision,
And, of course, my inability to instantly heal.
A fatal question accompanies the heartbeat in my chest;
Could I be trusted at all any more?
With all my shortcomings revealed,
I can only press my leg next to your wounded heaving side,
And wrap your small unsettled fingers in mine,
praying that your disorder might evaporate,
Through my blather of optimistic, unguent-glazed assurances:
“You’ll be alright, sweetheart,”
Silly words of comfort and false certainty,
That you rightfully ignore.
Gratefully I detect no other welts,
no additional reddenings or inadvertent swellings,
arising from this clash between you and the ground,
(That I know to have been instigated by merciless gravity,
And with whom I intend to have words later.)
But soon my wish for the return of your vigor is granted,
As I watch you regain measured breathing,
Followed by your re-engagement with curiosity as you take flight,
In a child’s agile, antic, helter skelter,
Rebutting all permanence of the last affright.
And with your departure, normalcy, albeit sad, returns to my life,
For you have again abandoned me,
In your inexorable flight toward independence,
Leaving behind in your wake,
A lingering hodge-podge of charm, intention, and promise,
That I can’t help but ingest into memory,
Your wellbeing written large on the smiling dome of my fulfillment.
To read Mike’s poem, Finishing the Unfinished, – click here
Pin-point accurate capture of the angst of parenting. This is beautiful. My “baby” is 43 and just had surgery. I cycled through the same emotions – blaming myself for not birthing him with adequate sized nasal passages – not being there for his surgery – and most of all, that push/pull of independence vs abandonment.
What parent hasn’t self charged, tried, and convicted himself or her self?
Comes with the territory of love. No training for it thx for the read
Mike