Turning Pages
Every once in a while,
I slow down.
I don't think I even mean to,
but you do something to make me pause.
For a moment,
I tune out the hustle and bustle,
the beautiful chaos that lives in our house.
I mute the torrent of thoughts.
(What should I make for dinner?
I need to fill out that permission slip.
I should really fold that load of laundry.)
You're curled up with a book -
the one you found yesterday at the second-hand store.
You whooped for joy when you saw it on the shelf,
begging me to buy it
(but also willing to raid your piggy bank if need be).
I watch you turn the page,
your eyes moving eagerly from word to word,
your mind playing the story in its own unique way.
The sun is coming through the window so perfectly,
casting your shadow on the wall,
reminding me of Peter Pan.
You smile, brown eyes sparkling,
and I wonder what funny line you just read.
You're lost in imagination, the most beautiful place.
I hope you go there often.
My phone buzzes, and I sigh.
I think (as I do every time) -
I need to slow down more often.
I need to frame these ordinary moments
and hang them up in my mind for a little while.
But the hustle and bustle unpauses.
The beautiful chaos sucks me back in.
The torrent of thoughts unmute.
What should I make for dinner?
I need to fill out that permission slip.
I should really fold that load of laundry.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment