Peaches

Good peaches, astonishingly delicate,

Start rotting where the picker’s fingers touched.

Wash those bad bits away and enjoy

A foretaste of heaven.

A Few Extra Hours

For two weeks, we’re skipping school,

A short summer vacation.

The boys play with grandma,

And I have a little extra time

To play catchup on the various tasks

I keep pushing aside.

What a blessing, to have 

A bit of additional time.

Hair

Caleb’s luxuriant blond curls had grown long enough

To make him look a bit chubby, a lot babyish.

But in the weeks since his hair was cut,

I cannot believe how much he looks like a real boy.

I can imagine him heading off to kindergarten,

With his complete sentences and his bright eyes

And his eagerness (and occasional meltdowns).

What a treasure he would be for a teacher,

And what a privilege that I get to keep that goodness for myself.

Caleb and Grandma

After asking daily how soon grandma would arrive,

When she finally did, Caleb clutched my hand,

Bravely walking up the hill to greet her, 

Along with three other guests. 

He circled the group on the outskirts, until

“Grandma, do you want to play a game with me?”

A bit later, I saw him running up the steps

With a blank piece of paper. This repeated several times.

Art, games, someone else to listen to his chatter . . .

This is one happy little boy.

Into the Woods

A half hour spent at the edge of the woods, 

Absorbing the air and, barefooted, grounding.

I found one tiny tick, and that distracted me;

Killed circling mosquitos, listened to cicadas.

And I found myself moving from thoughts of

I’m overwhelmed 

To thoughts of thanksgiving;

From inability to move to readiness to clean.

I sort of know why I don’t go to the forest every day—

The ticks, mosquitos, and investment of time.

But would the tradeoff be worth it,

To take some silent time every day in the woods?

Assaulted

I have done a good job arranging my life.

Quiet in the country,

Almost immediate removal of unwanted emails.

Lectures during meal prep, silence generally.

So when I opened my new phone to find 

Seven random notifications—

The stock exchange, the weather, the news, etc.

I felt assaulted.

And when I went outside with a box of books

And the neighbors music came clearly—

So clearly I wondered if it was my son’s music—

I felt assaulted.

Don’t impinge on my mental space! 

It’s mine!

Caleb’s Joke

SuperFred, Caleb’s stuffed dog,

Entered the room singing,

“Who let the people out?

Who? Who?”