This week's poetry thursday prompt was to write a poem that is 'personal'. Many (though not all) of my poems do come out of personal experience and my family weaves in and out of my work. For this week, I decided to post a poem written in response to a question from a wonderful blog I follow called 'The Dishwasher's Tears'. The poem is neither confessional nor intense, simply and quietly a personal reflection about a series of quiet moments that make up life.
I hope you enjoy it.
My ten year old son slips
a dimpled hand in mine.
We study ants, stalk a tiger-
striped cat. He finds a penny,
tails side up. I learn to conjure
the memory of fireflies. We scan
skyward for the swoop of bats,
never pity the mosquitos.
His older brother calls out
in a man's voice, belly laughs
at the approaching doppler
of an ice cream truck's song.
The dog greets me by the door,
tennis ball in her mouth, hopeful
tail a helicopter. My husband lifts
my hair, cools my neck with kisses.