In a rare moment of quiet
I watch my children descend,
traverse tall grass
toward the creek
mason jars in hand.
It’s been too long since
I’ve walked there myself-
They return an hour later
with grubby plunder-
tiny black tadpoles and stories of
the crawdad they dared not catch.
Inwardly I vow as I
smile vaguely at their jars–
next time I will go.
Torn as I am between the duties I keep,
washing dishes, sweeping floors
and the hungry ache for silent space-
Like them, I still feel the pull
of lush green, buzz of spring heat,
promise of spongy earth
beneath my dirty feet.
Author’s Comment: I wrote the poem “Spring Afternoon” because I had the general feelingthat I was passing up an opportunity with my children (walking to the creek to catch tadpoles). Even though I could have gone with them, I felt more like I wanted a little time alone. I think it is a feeling most parents know well.
Bio: I live in Mt. Pleasant (NC) and teach English at Stanly Community College in Albemarle. I’ve been married 13 years, and I have three children. I have always enjoyed writing, and I am most inspired by simple things–just the regular activities of life.