Weaning: First Day of School

Wendy Wisner

Weaning

is out the window, along with a tinge 

of yellow on the oak trees.  Last night I dreamt 

I took my college job back—typing, data entry—

and rushed home to pick you up from school.  

I saw a flash 

of your shiny blue sneakers, then lost you.

All morning airplanes cresting in the sky,

car doors slamming, children screaming.   

You wake up thinking you’ve peed your pants

and I unbutton my nightgown

to nurse you.  While you suck I wonder

if there’s any milk left, when you’ll wean,

if anyone at school will be able to tell,

perhaps by looking at your lips—