thee en kookie (#8 posted late)

thee en kookie

Bustling,

morning family noises

nudge me awake.

Me, still in bed.

flashing with fever and

clammy goose bumps 

popping little stings on my skin.

“Ben je ziek?”

her kind soft hand

placed on my head,

then strokes my cheek

at once

his husky, scruffy, dry hand

repeats the parent’s stethoscope.

Diagnosis confirmed for meisje

“This little girl needs to stay home.”

Worry

Weakness 

Who would lose this day’s pay?

“Remember the Vicks!”

camphor smelly jelly

rubbed gently on my chest, throat and forehead

next the warm wet wash cloth

swathed around my neck

fastened with the baby-diaper pin

The house empties.

soothing soundlessness so rare in our household

Gently, she comes balancing

thee en kookie;

always in the fine porcelain cup and saucer,

painted with gold leaf and rose colored flowers,

weak tea laced with milk, 

lots of sugar 

and a Bufferin.

Dipping the cookie in the elixir

she touches my lips with the limp sweetness,

pudding-like it slips down my swollen throat.

Ladling with the itsy-bitsy special spoon,

She carefully offers the tea to my lips . . .

I know she’ll stay until each drop is gone

slowly, me

sipping,

suckling

thee en kookie

anke hodenpijl

october  9, 2012