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I hear the choke in his voice —

he’s been undone by his students,

their accolades ring in my ear as well

I’m so proud of my son

he’s a good man

despite a great many stumbles

and hardships he never deserved,

his life is a great achievement —

he impacts the lives of others

for he is a teacher

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she thinks in terms of color,

texture, line and symmetry

though she’s drawn, sometimes,

to the charm of the asymmetrical.

she sees an image in her mind,

then tackles the brush, the paper,

her watercolor paints

as she endeavors to create

a happy infusion of heart & mind,

hands & soul & the subtle curiosity of sight.

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in an ocean

of potted soil,

others linger

*

just a bit more,

beneath the surface

soon, to pop up

*

seeking fresh air,

spring sunlight,

the refreshment of rain

*

these tiny buoys

of soul-nourishing

cheer

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dwindling garden cart

real estate:

potted sunflower,

annual 4-packs

celosia, lobelia, impatiens,

a trio of white geraniums

I am both unable & unwilling

to restrain myself

my patient husband

does not cluck

or moan or roll his eyes —

not so far as I can tell

full sun annuals

to brighten our outdoor spaces

he’ll see; yes, he’ll see