This week, another poem resulting from the prompts provided by the wonderful ladies of Writer’s International, and reflecting the changing state and status and role that I face as my middle years roll on and my sons grow up.

Yesterday

Yesterday I thought I could hold on to you,

keep you like something that was all my own

That childhood would stretch on and on like that beach where we played,

like those summer evenings when the sun just wouldn’t go down

 Childhood a permanent condition not a passing state of affairs

Despite your undeniable height and the deepening of your voice

I would always be waking you, calling you,

time to shower

bus is here…

Yesterday, I was serving treats for you at the end of busy school days,

arguing about forgotten homework and unobserved curfews

Today those small shoes in the hallway,

And going upstairs to call you down for tea

Your arm so comfortable around her shoulder

so naturally

she leans slightly towards you

Today I recognize that yesterday was yesterday

Today a new day has arrived