I ASK MY GRANDSON
I asked my grandson,
…what is my favorite thing to do,” after
he asked the round table.
“To play with me, of course.”
“Of course, I love playing with you…”
“and?”
and “praising God” - oh how much better
he knows me, than I know myself.
I chuckle.
“and?”
I prompt, “and writing poetry.”
“Oh yeah,” he says.
I guess
I don’t know me at all.
Only after I asked my grandson,
did I realize there is a better priority.
Still, I think
my husband must wonder
where he fits in.
…somewhere in between,
woven in, with those brown eyes
and kissable lips,
often up on top,
sometimes he slips
between the sheets;
still a grandkid comes to visit
and he says “hello,”
slips downstairs,
and waits until the door opens
to say, “goodbye,”
then heads upstairs
and winks,
and I think,
‘no rest for me.’
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
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