Poem: Generations
I sat at the table
idly twirling my chopsticks
through a bowl of limp noodles
when I heard commotion
coming from my right.
A young mother was there
with a screaming infant
in a baby stroller
and a little boy pulling
at her sleeve for attention.
I remember those years
with three little ones in tow
in the space of five years
bone tired and just existing
just taking it from day to day.
And I think to myself
oh my dear, what have
you gotten yourself into?
These days seem so long
but the don't last forever.
I wonder what kind of world
these children will inherit
what kind of place will they have
in fifteen, twenty years
what will we leave them?
Comments
Post a Comment