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a poem for Monday

April 13, 2009

Ballad for a Stuffed Frog

How quickly things change-
what used to be love letters, passionate
and sodden with longing
are now crooked pencil marks on paper:
“I love you”,
“Dear Santa, I want dragons and light sabers”.
What used to be hour upon uninterrupted hour
of reading, progressively drunk on wine
now reduced to single stanza poems
and non-committal short stories
on the train ride home.
What used to be anxious glances at the mirror,
tugging at hemlines and tucking in shirts
are now worries over playground squabbles
and complicated school bus routes.

How quickly time runs-
2 hours into a trip through flat interstate highways,
listening to the uncannily common refrain:
“Are we there yet?”, “I’m hungry..,”
somehow feels just as long as
20 more seconds before the cookies are done.
Is it 3 more days before the weekend
or only 2 days into the week?
It’s a mystery where the minutes go- no amount
of planning seems to pair each chore to
a fragment of the day; it is gone too soon.
Yesterday I was nearly giddy with joy
upon finding a long lost frog under the bed.
I smiled foolishly at its bug eyes
and rushed to re-unite it with its eager owner.

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