Sunday, October 17, 2010

Poem of the Week #146

The Mechanics of Time/Space as Experienced in a Rear View Mirror

We pull up to the curb
a block from the middle school.

I have exactly two seconds
to throw my voice under the radar

to say goodbyehaveagooddayiloveyou
as a ventriloquist would, without moving

my lips. Because you are already
scanning the sidewalk—for boys, girls?

I’m not sure who you are looking for,
but God forbid they should see you

talking to your mother. You say okay,
grab your sack, and dash away.

You join the flow of somber teens
and I, the flow of other harried mothers

and fathers, none of us quite sure
what to do with the likes of you.

Seventh grade is not what it used to be.
I watch you in my rear view mirror

and remember other school mornings
when I was your beloved escort.

Now, you wait for traffic to clear,
then saunter—nonchalant—across the lawn.

I imagine someday, when I am far away,
I will catch you in a distant mirror,

as you sit in a car, looking back
at your daughter or your son.

In your rear view mirror,
you will see what I see, that same one.

Lisa Vihos


Nebula said...

Love this poem, even though I don't have kids, I can relate!

Poem of the Week - Lisa Vihos said...

Thank you Nebula-sender. Very kind of you to read my work and comment. I looked at your blog too. Congrats on getting published in Verse Wisconsin. I have had a couple poems there myself. In the last issue, I had no poems, but two reviews. I have no idea if you will see this comment. I'm not a very good blogger...yet. Lisa