I stood in line at the grocery counter
Where mother and child were just
ahead.
This small supple mass of flesh and
lung
Which moments before was announcing
his ire
For the whole world to notice that
Something was wrong,
Some great injustice was being done
To his discontent, so he pierced
the air
With nerve wrenching wails,
Which his mother apparently could
not hear,
Or did she ignore?
Could she be the only one in the
store who...
Of course not. How silly.
She's just on to his game.
Patience has conquered, at least
for the moment.
And now he sits... Suddenly shy...
Tilting his brow... Avoiding my
eye.
What is he thinking? If thought is
a pattern.
What is he learning from this days
event?
I wink as his view shyly shifts my
direction.
He lowers his eyelids, confused for
a while.
He glances at mother, and then back
to me...
No comments:
Post a Comment