Saturday morning,
I close my eyes, and I almost hear
The sounds of children coming near;
I drink my coffee undisturbed,
Nowhere in this house, a word.
Out the window, a young bird
On the plum tree sings
Of feasts of grain and seed
Unaided by a mother's beak
Or hand or heart or need.
Very poignant.
ReplyDeleteRevel in the empty nest, glory in the fact that they fly free without any need more than a debit card at the bank of mom and dad!
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem. A quiet strength, natural and true. Intrigued by the painting though! Did you paint it?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful - it sounds heavenly to me, but perhaps it's a little TOO quiet for a mom :)
ReplyDeleteoh sigh, she comments from a very noisy house full of children! sigh.
ReplyDeletekaren, i love your words. and i also came over to say: As Poets United reaches its first anniversary this week we want to thank you for your support. Over the past year, we have grown to 250 members plus and are steadily growing. Poets United is proud to have you as one of our members and look forward to another successful year. Your imagination, creativity and willingness to share with us is what makes our community such a wonderful place. Thank you for beautiful poetry and thank you for being a part of Poets United.
The painting's a Matisse, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteThe poem, it wrung my heart.