Sure, I can want my children
to be brilliant and given accolades
for their accomplishments.
My reality is that I’m struggling
to keep them all out of trouble.
My Eldest Surly Reverie is
floating just above the waves
while treading water.
Thank God he can swim.
Thanking the third grade program that
taught all the town’s students how to swim
I had a point, nebulous and evasive
these morning thoughts
My children: can I get them through school?
The Silent Sentinel is learning to feel.
His spectrum like behavior keeps him
apart from us emotionally driven folk.
He plays the part of a kind young man
while at school, but lets it all
hang out at home, meaning he retreats.
Now My Child has gone full blown rebellion
drinking smoking having sex at the ripe age
of fifteen. Am I wise to want him in the military?
I’m having a time parenting the wee beastie.
He towers over me at six foot four inches
of cranky testosterone fueled explosions.
Yes, I searched his bag,
found contraband including
testosterone pills and
I’m determined to continue trying
to impress morality on this teenage toddler.
I, Me, Mine all day, every day.