I find poems easier to write than bios. I like my family, old friends and new places. I spend much too much time on genealogy and I am a sucker for lectures from The Great Courses. Recent work has appeared in Right Hand Pointing, Red River Review and Verse-Virtual .
If Children are the Future
If children are the future,
my future has begun to walk.
She toddles with a wide-based gait,
a rocking stance,
hands stretched at her sides,
the joy of mastery in every step.
No more content for hours in my arms,
she squirms, protests, wants to explore.
No more quiet play upon a quilt,
the world is at her feet.
I watch with pride although I know,
my future has begun to walk away from me.
for my son
He is not wholly mine:
Strange thoughts and play come home with him,
As alien as Bang! in this gunless house.
He is not wholly mine, but never was.
He is his own, a craft adrift.
The world’s his sea.
I am a harbor.
My waters are a safe retreat.
He is a jaunty craft that has just begun
To feel the power of the sea.
He bears my flag and my good wishes
As the ocean adds her salt and takes her toll.
©2015 Wendy Freborg