I have spent the day dusting, cleaning toilets, and cleaning off the carport, here at The Humble Abode. We recently had a garage sale, and the carport was a mess with things that noone wanted. I felt sorry for a small teddy bear that I threw out. I would have kept it, but it said "W" on it. That's about all I have to tell you, right now, besides the amazing revelation that I just rode my bike for 27 minutes, and my plan is to take a shower, and then do some Iyengar Yoga, which I have been sorely neglecting doing. Here are a couple of poems that I wrote about my kids, when they were younger. I hope you enjoy them.
To Show Me The Stars
There is nothing to calm the fear of a day
full of creditors who cant be satisfied,
dunning letters that can't be replied to,
a walk in the dark to the store for ice cream
with a dog happy to see me,
and a daughter who brings a flashlight
to show me the stars.
Each time he rides his bike away,
he gets further down the street.
"Can I go see the twins?" he asks,
and he's off again.
"Can I knock on their door?" he asks.
I say, "no," and explain that I'll have to leave soon,
and that he won't be able to ride his bike much longer.
He's seven, and as he rides away this time,
I realize that, one day, he may be riding away
to college or to a job
and that I won't see him every day,
and I think, well, maybe, I don't have to
get to that art opening on time.