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| A sketch I did just the other day from a photograph taken 8 or so years ago ... seems like yesterday. |
There is something so endearing
about my little boy's silhouette,
delicate neck above narrow shoulders
and waist dwarfed by shorts
that flood past knees
and shade bare, dirt-dusted feet.
Last vestigates of pudginess
cling to lengthening limbs,
which increasingly take him far
from my protective reach.
The lake is deep, tree roots
snake in and out along the steep bank.
I warn him to watch his step,
"I will, Mom"; try not to hover
yet it's second nature. Sees me coming,
he runs, I shout, he laughs.
The darkness of the water scares me,
of course, he's oblivious,
fascinated as he is looking for turtles,
fish, dragonflies, and such.
Notice Mother Duck's having trouble
keeping her own swiftly growing chicks inline;
my mind scampers to my other five
(check text messages, see if they need me)
call my youngest to me, spread out blanket,
hold tight to this moment, this little boy.
by Margaret Bednar, January 7, 2020
This is posted with "dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar - Critique & Craft - Soliloquy"
9 comments:
I like the descriptive phrase "dirt-dusted feet" and the thought of lengthening limbs that take him far away to dangers he is oblivious of.
Very lovely, so heartfelt and I love the sketch. He's on his way! I once had a little boy like that but no matter how tight we hold on they slip away.
So sweet, Margaret. Reminds me when my youngest was three walking ahead of me at the park, realizing she would always be heading out, walking away. It all goes by so fast. Your sketch is beautiful. As is your poem, a moment captured in time.
Wonderful sketch Marge! Would always love to see an own sketch to accompany a posting (a talent for the chosen few) Love the analogy, human and bird both are common in having the motherly instinct!
Hank
Prescious!
Your descriptions are creative and spot-on. I particularly like the phrase "waist dwarfed by shorts."
Those magic moments are so quickly gone into the pages of memory, years pass, and sometimes one finds the roles reversed!
Your wonderful sketch and poem touches this momma's heart...my youngest son left the nest last summer but I clearly remember long shorts and dusty feet.
I do not have children of my own, but going through pictures that my mother took of me, I can see myself in that little boy. Wonderful
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