The Wild Child

public domain photo - credits below

The Wild Child

“They”

want him to grow UP and 

STOP

stomping in mud puddles,

climbing trees, and befriending bugs,

STOP

shadowing butterflies,

weaving daisy chains,

bestowing dandelion bouquets,

STOP

wearing his sister’s tutu,

tangoing at T-ball

pirouetting across home plate,

STOP

singing at the bus stop, and

hugging random strangers

at the supermarket

but, (honestly)

you hope

(no matter what)

that he’ll never

(ever)

stop.

PSC / 2019-Apr

Here We Go Again

public domain photo - credits below

Here We Go Again

Pity

(pretty please)

this poor, pathetic boy

who (yet again)

cries “wolf!”

and alligator tears.

His fears,

somewhat abstract,

(some fanciful, some fact),

it’s clear what they’re about,

but my compassion’s

plumb wore out.

PSC / 2019-Apr

You Don’t Own the Poem

public domain photo - modified (darkened to night & added "fireflies")

You Don’t Own the Poem

(The Poem Owns You)

One night,

(mayhap after midnight)

you catch a glimpse of some-

thing (maybe moonlight)

sifting through the curtains,

dancing on the floor

and it draws you out-

side where you find (yourself

captivated by) some-

thing (perhaps a field

of wildflowers

lit by flickering fireflies)

  

You cup your hands

trying to capture

just a tiny smidgen

(with pen and ink)

of that beautiful,

magical glow

but you know

(no amount of holes

in any jelly jar lid

can sustain them

so) you have to

let them go.

PSC / 2019-Apr