The Thinker
She saw her son out sitting on the swing,
not even swinging, simply doing nothing.
“Whatcha doin’, son? Without blinkin’
he said (like he always did), “Just thinkin’.”
Her son (with cell phone) held a glass of ice.
He had not even turned on the device.
“Whatcha doin’, son?” He just sat clinkin’
his glass of ice and answered her, “just thinkin’.”
She gave a birthday party for her son.
He sat alone and would talk to no one.
“Whatcha doin’, son?” He just kept shrinkin’
like a violet, and said, “Just thinkin’.”
Her son was at the table with a book
at which he did not even take a look.
“Whatcha doin’, son?” she asked (heart sinkin’)
Of course he answered her, “just thinkin’.”
The mother had enough, so on a whim
some paper and a pen she gave to him.
“Son, write down what you’re thinkin’ for me, please.”
Her son began to write with greatest ease.
He wrote and wrote and wrote.
Thoughts from his brain flowed to his hand.
What ponderings! What stories!
What inventions he then planned!
“You’re brilliant, Son,
but what of all the other things you never told me?”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” he piped up.
“I have a photographic memory.”
Jan. 3, 2021
for the Just Thinkin'....... Poetry Contest of John Lawless
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2021
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