Parents' day relaxes the urge for success,
The resistance very real, those
Old memories of morning breakfasts
Before the school bus arrived, those
Questions proffered by a mom who
Knows not motherhood,
Not the skills needed to talk
To sons grown cold with oatmeal.
But college might be different, those parents
Smacking their lips for
Victory, their son now a man,
Studying the classics, carrying a notebook
Filled with graffiti.
Good that no one snatches his notes,
Sees his thoughts each day.
Wouldn’t mom be surprised
By all the little boxes, some
Colored in by dark blue ink, others
Empty like his brain.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
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Chanti
Love Tinka
Troyce