photo credit ©drc 2007

BOAT

"Boat, mommy!" he said, pointing
as it bobbed around the tub
He emptied it, sank it again,
and, laughing, said, "Blub-blub!"

"Can we go to the ship, mommy?"
my young son said to me,
"Take me to the park,
to play a pirate lost at sea!"

"Hey, mom, I'm taking out the boat"
my son told me one day
"I'll catch a lot of fish
and fry us each a great filet!"

"Drive me to the dock?" he asked.
He'd grown up all too soon
"I got my orders - overseas.
It's not like it's the moon!"

I took my son's face in my hands,
he looked me in the eye
then choking back my tears of pride
I straightened up his tie.

   A mother's love, I've realized,
   is melancholy-lined:
   I'll always hear the echoes of
   "Boat, mommy!" in my mind.

© drc 2007
(really glad my son is still just 2-1/2 years old!!)
   

MY RUNAWAY MUSE

It slipped away from me.
You know it did.
I wasn't paying attention
and my muse got bored.

I am hoping
that it will return
once over its carousing
from one holiday party to another
each of which it attended
without me.

Perhaps I am fortunate.
A pleasant beginning.

No party.
no hangover.

When it comes back,
to sleep it off,
I imagine I may have to think

softly.

© drc 2007