My Cart 


New Parents
Sherry Hughes Beasley


They are not sleeping, the two
people in the corner
room of the apartment:
the twelve-o’clock whistle
in town, the black wash
of wind like surf
under the window,
the tiny rasp of breath in the bed
at the end of their bed
like a breeze lifting a blue dinghy
they have no idea how to sail.

This poem first appeared in Southern Poetry Review,
Used here with the author’s permission.




Sherry Beasley is the award-winning author of four poetry chapbooks and her work has appeared in numerous literary journals. Founder and senior editor of Astounding Beauty Ruffian Press, she is also a professional designer and artisan. Sherry, a native Virginian, lives near the Blue Ridge mountains.




Post New Comment:
Beautiful way to express it so very true.
Posted 08/20/2016 02:41 PM
Lori Levy:
Especially love the last 2 lines.
Posted 08/20/2016 10:48 AM
Larry Schug:
I guess we all need to learn how to sail our boats each morning. The sea, the winds are forever changing.
Posted 08/20/2016 07:18 AM
Love your images. Simple yet oh, so complex! Lovely.
Posted 08/20/2016 07:10 AM
Great analogy--boating and motherhood. Just when you get it down, the winds change. So worth, though.
Posted 08/20/2016 06:44 AM

Contents of this web site and all original text and images therein are copyright © by Your Daily Poem. All rights reserved.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. Purchasing books through any poet's Amazon links helps to support Your Daily Poem.
The material on this site may not be copied, reproduced, downloaded, distributed, transmitted, stored, altered, adapted,
or otherwise used in any way without the express written permission of the owner.