from the document folder

Mothers’ May 2008

Wet wind dances around whisking through hair
Drops are splashing on pavement that steams
The kids build worm farms in wet sneakers and the men recline to watch the fight on TV.
“Everything is everything, after winter must come spring…”
Dice fall and children argue and agree while I resign, mediate and translate for the ones that can not read the questions.
Leading is not controlling: one of the evenings lessons as younger cousins bicker.
The popcorn is left uneaten, watermelon peels abandoned,
The dishwasher squishes and squiggles and sputs
No one is allergic to nuts
And everyone giggles when someone farts and everything is just fine
As they break out into charades
It’s Saturday night fever.
I know somewhere, children are missing and their mothers’ tears are washed away with the rain.
My heart won’t let my head think too much on it.
My front porch is littered with wet clothes
And I know my flowers will grow
And my garden will be beautiful.
The children will flourish.


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