He sleeps all over the bed.
Has music in his head, all the time.
Sad, lonely day.
Trent didn’t even
want to get out of
bed to see you
“Dad’s going to Austin.
He won’t let me go.”
We miss you
when you’re gone.
I Can’t Sleep Again
My Husband is in Austin Blues
10 Pounds of Bat Guano in a 5 Pound Bag
A twisted knot of kimchee, jalapeno sauerkraut.
A playground for hyperactive butterflies.
A black hole of isolation and despair.
A pincushion for railroad spikes.
A bowl of mushy over-ripe banana pudding.
A blackened Cajun red snapper.
“MOM! I’m tired of going around in circles!”
“Shut up, or I’ll nail your other shoe to the floor.”
A dank, moldering cellar.
The bottom of a compost heap, crawling with worms and insects.
A package of crackers the kids used for a hockey puck.
Friday nights I used to go “out”.
Get dressed up, turn heads.
Now I’m a mom, Lani’s mom.
This Friday I’m selling
Girl Scout Cookies at Winn Dixie.
Get dressed, go out, turn heads?
Now I’m a mom, Trent’s mom.
Last Friday I went to bed
with a pile of picture books
and a clean, little, snuggle bunny.
Fem Fatale no more.
Now I’m a mom, Ian’s mom.
I look up to him and we argue about haircuts.
He wants one, and I love his curls.
Some Fridays we order pizza
and watch rented movies
a jumble of arms and legs
in, on and around the couch.
Love handles and thunder thighs.
Now that I’m a mom
and a new grand-mom (Welcome! Thomas)
more cuddley comfortable
More T&A than a killer-red-dress type.
Friday nights I used to go “Out!”
Get dressed up and turn heads.
Since I’ve been a mom, Friday nights are sweeter.
Moms get tender peanut-butter kisses.
Moms get lovey-snuggle-hugs.
Moms get original art work for their refrigerators.
Momma Friday nights sure beat the heck
out of tight jeans and red high-heeled cowboy boots.
This is a zen sort of time-
Responsible only for me
No children to watch over and care for
I sort of drift in and out
of conscious thought
It’s a feeling—-watching—-feeling mode
I’m comfortable with my company
Off to bed
Saw a guy in Applebee’s that looked like Tom
A Kirby? I almost asked him.
Texas summer baked.
I wish it was 6 already.
The the lifeguards
could drag the kids
outta the pool there
and I could go
home and nap.
I deserve one.
Got all that
taken care of
brought the kids up
here for a
I’ll feed ’em DQ
Banana Splits for supper.
What a mom.
Eyes that twinkle at me
Cheeks that twitch with waiting smiles
Voices that are filled with joy
about to burst with energy
Creative minds that cook up
Impressive ideas……..my students-