I Touched Him

because I couldn't see his back
rising and falling
like the length of his skinny body
in and out of the pool
all sticky
day long.

(Spotlight on the little-known
phenomenon--
dry-drowning.)

They’re never more angelic
than when they’re sleeping,
or so I’ve heard.

(Warning signs every parent
should be aware
of.)

You will not find the kind of mother
here, checking on her children
in the middle of the night.

In the middle of the night
I sleep.
Like a normal person.

(easily overlooked
or misinterpreted.)

I am no insomniac.
I know my children,
the span of their small
hands, the breadth of their
chests, the width of their feet
their lips, the measure of one eye
between their beautiful blue and hazels—
the third eye.

It’s just the media.
Blame it on the media.
Measuring the depth of my love
on the frequency of my obsession.

At one end,
the pool was twelve feet deep.
That’s three times
the size of my boy.
What is the direct route to his lungs?
How much could he inhale
in an instant?

Under pressure
we can all supply
what is needed.

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I had used some indentations in this poem, for effect, but they didn't all show up when I cut and pasted. Can't seem to figure that out in Blogger. This indenting is something new I am trying...

WriPoMo anyone?

I so enjoyed writing every day for a month back in April that I've decided to try it again. We shall see. I missed June 1, but that's ok. If you want to join me, let me know in the comments! I'll make a sidebar list!

A Hiccup in the Long, Long Trail

You stumbled
(literally, a tree branch under foot)
on your husband

sharing a laugh
with another baritone
comrade. Laughing in the woods

on a family hike. Kids ahead
wives behind
husbands bringing up the rear

checking it all out
bracing for the bear attack
or the random unleashed
dog racing the trail.

Do you wonder what the joke is?

Do you shake your Devil's Walking Stick
at him, thorns upside the head?

Do you throw your hands
full of treasure
acorns, leaves, twigs
over your head
in a praise be salute
because your man finally
has a friend?
Do you hide
your fears, your extra pounds
circling the middle,
your latest adult
pimple and laugh along?

What would Jesus do?

That’s what the man said
at church this morning,
tucked in the corner
next to the holy water
trying to give you a drink.

What did you do?