Poetry 157: Parenthood

Parenthood

 

I see my young
walking barefoot in the
grass.

Pulling blueberries off

the bushes out back.
Looking for already
ripened tomatoes.

In these moments

I feel that invisible,
yet fantastically tangible,
cord between us
pull tighter.

 

I know this time
is brief,
when the borders
of our suburban half
acre will keep you in.

I know the goal

is to help you grow
in skill and wisdom
before you move out
into wider circles.

 

Yet my mammal
instinct seems
so damned hardwired
to just pick you up
by the scruff,
and carry you back
through time.

 

I don’t-

of course.

Instead, I decide

to let my animal self
sit just quietly
in the shadows of
our shaded lawn.
Carefully watching
your every step.

 

Preparing to
let you go.

 

-Me