The younger ones and I have a short list of places we visit during Caroline’s piano lesson, namely the library and the pet store. We just added a new one, a park/playground just up the street from Caroline’s teacher’s house.
Incidentally, I’ve tried the poem-a-day experiment several times before but never made it this far into April. What accounts for my success this time? Why, a book manuscript I’m procrastinating, of course!
He pushes the empty swing,
catches it by the chain on the rebound,
and laughs as it wobbles in his hand.
“Isn’t that funny, Mommy?”
I don’t normally find physics amusing,
but his guffaws make it so.
She runs toward the cluster of trees,
to see if there’s a creek nearby.
It looks like there should be one.
The pear tree snows on her as she goes.
She returns disappointed, but not empty handed:
two perfect blossoms,
plucked from the dusting on the ground,