Pretty Things AKA Enough.

Dsc02480by Michelle Seyner24 Sep 2019

I wish to write about pretty things,
like the noble flight of seagulls
and dewdrops on tulips.
I wish to write about pretty things,
a song of butterflies, perhaps,
or the music of a child's laughter.
But in this ever-darkening world
all I can think of, right now,
is how something loosens in my chest
when my son returns home to me,
unharmed. And I think of how I
drink in the sight of his beloved face
and hug him a little tighter
to silence all the fears I do not
want to burden him with.
Or I think of the moment
I hear the voice of my youngest child
again, after their long shift
as a cashier in the supermarket,
and they are happily talking
to one of their friends on the phone,
smile not just on their face,
but in their voice, as well.
And I stroke their hair in passing,
with all the love and tenderness
a mother's heart can muster,
and I try and anchor myself
in that very moment, to root
myself there, defiantly and unmovable,
shut out all the possible horrors
some tomorrow might bring to me.
I wish to write about pretty things,
but today, this is all I got.
For now, it is enough.

24 September 2019.
Michelle Seyner.