Lost Moments
Dirty dishes fill the sink,
the furniture collects dust,
a laundry basket overflows.
My child asks me to play
a new game with him.
I tell him—I just can’t.
Dirty dishes fill the sink,
the furniture collects dust,
a laundry basket overflows.
My child’s child asks me
to play a game with her.
In the wisdom that comes with
age
and memories of moments lost,
I tell her—I’d love to.
Previously published in The Storyteller
Caryl Calsyn is a retired Interior
Designer with involvements in many areas including history, writing and singing
groups. She has had a total of 86 poems published by nine different
publications.
Excellent!
ReplyDeleteWow! Nice one. So simple but speaks a lot.
ReplyDeleteCaryl, this cuts deep in my "parent" heart, your desperately honest words and your happy redemption make me remember the time I casually declined my young son's offer to "go out and have a snowball fight" --- I'm waiting to atone with my grandkids, and cast off that weight from my "grandfather" heart....
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! This is the wisdom mixed with love that comes with age and motherhood, posted into dearest poetic words.
ReplyDeleteto bad we can't be wise when we are young
ReplyDelete