Am I buying time
or giving it time?
Only time will tell.
Catching Up
I can sit here and catch up on poems
because you are off playing by yourself.
So we are both working independently.
You are catching up to me;
we’re not so different as before,
and I know you’ll catch up more.
You’re the Mom
You say, “I’m mom,
and you’re the baby.”
You say, “Okay?”
and I think “Maybe.”
Then you, the mom, say
“Help me please!”
You must not know
what “baby” means.
Gravitas
I’ve been hearing this word “gravitas”
and I think I know what it means.
But do I have it,
or does it have me?
For All Days
I walked into the Wal-Mart, shocked,
by red and pink and golden boxes.
This kind of love is nice and shiny,
the packaging so bright it blinds me.
These teddy bears and cards with poems
are nice, but they can’t build a home
or clean it. And these sugared treats
will never be enough to eat.
I had a list, which I now heeded.
I bought the houseware that we needed,
knowing love, the useful kind,
is for all days, and Valentine’s.
Home Early
When you come home late,
the supper must wait.
When you come home early,
the supper’s not ready.
But we would not trade
the choice that we’ve made:
a schedule that’s screwy
and a husband that’s steady.
Nothing New
There is nothing new under the sun
and with all these projects half undone
there’ll be nothing new let on our list.
We have enough. We’ll start with this.