Saturday Morning
Distant babble, a shout, an egg beater,
What does the clock say?
More noise, a dream dancing just beyond memory’s reach,
Where are my glasses?
6:45, no, 8:54
I found them on the sill.
Down one, then two floors,
The babble becomes intelligible.
Mom’s answering emails
Bob plays Toy Crush
I see Zac reading
Despite the lack of hush
Lydea and Becca make us pancakes,
No, it’s muffins that they make.
What kind is still in question
Because the batter isn’t done.
Violet yells at random people,
But she is only four.
She throws a yellow tape measure,
It skitters across the floor.
Haylee’s still asleep
How, I do not know.
But in her sleep she misses
What is going on below.
Dad is at the temple
Diligently serving God
He wants his family all to know
That his devotion is still strong.
Saturdays and family
Are pretty much the best.
Except for when my mom says
“Now clean up your huge mess.”
Still I wouldn’t trade them for the world
Though into it I’m being hurled
And when I think of imminent leaving
My heart in two is slowly cleaving
But it’s time to go
So they should know,
I’ll keep them close to me.
Copyright © Carson Chandler | Year Posted 2017
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