Thank you, LeeAnn. I'm so glad you like this one. It's funny. I never seem to know which poems will really make a connection with people. Sometimes an older piece like this one that has been oft rejected by many an editor feels a bit tarnished, somehow. But when people read it and enjoy it and say so, it starts to sparkle for me again. Thanks.
Lovely, Tara! One thing I consistently enjoy about your poetry is the way you connect the intimate and personal with the universal. "...his mind unspools the way all our minds do when we drive ..." is a great line, and put words to an experience I've never paused to put words to. I love the way you invite we, the reader, into this quiet moment with your son. :)
Thanks so much, Adam. That's high praise coming from you, since I'm always blown away by how, in so few words, you manage to connect the personal to the universal. It's sort of your super power.
(You can tell we all enjoyed the poem so much because no one has commented yet on the egret, or the juxtaposition of "blahs" in the subhead with the gorgeous photograph just under it. Trickster you. The photo is a bath of beauty!)
I took that photo while walking with a friend. We rounded this pond and I saw the egret and I swear I didn't even totally stop walking, just snapped a couple of photos and kept going. If I had tried to take a lovely photo it would have been terrible, but since I took it mid-stride and mid-sentence, it was perfect. Go figure.
Love this - especially the last line. My son is at this point now, a month away from his driving test. Yesterday, while we drove together, he encountered his first Detour. What a metaphor that is! College won't be far. I hope you have some wonderful family time this month.
Thanks so much for reading. Enjoy all those milestones. When each of my kids left for college it felt so momentous, and of course, it is. But they come home. And it's lovely. And it's life, all over again, just in a slightly different arrangement. All through my kids lives I've always said my favorite age is the one they are right now. That's still true at 19 and 22.
Thank you, Kim. It's true, it really did feel like he was perched on the edge of the nest back then. And he flew. And then he came back, and flew again, etc., etc. I really love this phase of life with adult kids who still come home. It's so fun to keep meeting again when we've all changed a bit, but still like to spend time together.
There were certainly moments when I was pushing that invisible brake pedal on the passenger side pretty hard. But I learned so much from my husband when he taught me to drive a standard transmission in our twenties. He was so calm and clear. Gave me something to aspire with as we taught our kids to drive. But I don't mind being on the far side of that experience!
I love how you capture the stillness and melancholy of late summer, Tara. It’s a difficult month to pin down. The place where beginnings and endings eddy together. As you did with the heron picture, you caught an elusive moment without waiting for it to appear.
Oh, that ending line. There is something so quiet and tender about this poem.
P.S.--enjoy your last weeks of summer! 💛
Thank you, Margaret. You, too! 💕
This poem is simply lovely. So rich and, as Margaret said, tender. I too feel like September is more of a beginning than January. I love fall.
Thank you, LeeAnn. I'm so glad you like this one. It's funny. I never seem to know which poems will really make a connection with people. Sometimes an older piece like this one that has been oft rejected by many an editor feels a bit tarnished, somehow. But when people read it and enjoy it and say so, it starts to sparkle for me again. Thanks.
I'm not always the best judge of my work, that's for sure.
-- You should write a poem about that, he says.
💛🌿
Lovely, Tara! One thing I consistently enjoy about your poetry is the way you connect the intimate and personal with the universal. "...his mind unspools the way all our minds do when we drive ..." is a great line, and put words to an experience I've never paused to put words to. I love the way you invite we, the reader, into this quiet moment with your son. :)
Thanks so much, Adam. That's high praise coming from you, since I'm always blown away by how, in so few words, you manage to connect the personal to the universal. It's sort of your super power.
(You can tell we all enjoyed the poem so much because no one has commented yet on the egret, or the juxtaposition of "blahs" in the subhead with the gorgeous photograph just under it. Trickster you. The photo is a bath of beauty!)
I took that photo while walking with a friend. We rounded this pond and I saw the egret and I swear I didn't even totally stop walking, just snapped a couple of photos and kept going. If I had tried to take a lovely photo it would have been terrible, but since I took it mid-stride and mid-sentence, it was perfect. Go figure.
Haha!
Love this - especially the last line. My son is at this point now, a month away from his driving test. Yesterday, while we drove together, he encountered his first Detour. What a metaphor that is! College won't be far. I hope you have some wonderful family time this month.
Thanks so much for reading. Enjoy all those milestones. When each of my kids left for college it felt so momentous, and of course, it is. But they come home. And it's lovely. And it's life, all over again, just in a slightly different arrangement. All through my kids lives I've always said my favorite age is the one they are right now. That's still true at 19 and 22.
A wonderful poem, full of the tender love for the fledgling about to fly
Thank you, Kim. It's true, it really did feel like he was perched on the edge of the nest back then. And he flew. And then he came back, and flew again, etc., etc. I really love this phase of life with adult kids who still come home. It's so fun to keep meeting again when we've all changed a bit, but still like to spend time together.
Yes, it’s wonderful isn’t it!
I really enjoyed the essay and the poem, especially that ending. Have a great August!
Enjoy the rest of your summer! Loved your memory.
Contemplative which is a different experience I had with my daughters.
There were certainly moments when I was pushing that invisible brake pedal on the passenger side pretty hard. But I learned so much from my husband when he taught me to drive a standard transmission in our twenties. He was so calm and clear. Gave me something to aspire with as we taught our kids to drive. But I don't mind being on the far side of that experience!
Lovely memories, always with you.
love this line: "Are they lonely? I wonder aloud,
as the light changes to green and we roll ahead."
Beautiful!
I love how you capture the stillness and melancholy of late summer, Tara. It’s a difficult month to pin down. The place where beginnings and endings eddy together. As you did with the heron picture, you caught an elusive moment without waiting for it to appear.