Apr. 29, 2021



Serious writing morning
interrupted by Dora,
insistent grandchild, drawing
her images intensely,
demanding marker changes.

My own focus dismantled
in service of young talent.


A wathery sun, we’d say,
coupled with an east wind chill,

does not deter her intent march
up and down the spring garden,
speaking to plants and pidgeons
calling to us her demands

for play, for food, for attention.


The youngest of the household
has just reached the landmark age
of two years on the planet.

Marks both the rich unfolding
of a brilliant young human,
and the timely closing down
of the elder folk at home.