'May' Poets

Sometimes I leave a poem out

To share with them

They grunt a response

To let me know

They read it

…sort of

Then ask

‘What’s for supper?’

Sometimes I point out

The shapes of leaves

New born, etched

On May’s dusk

They nod and

Continue discussing

That

‘Really good song by so-and-so’

Sometimes they make

My heart stop

Right there

In the middle

Of Ordinary

As they say, ‘look Mom,

Look at the way the sun hits those trees,

Isn’t it cool?’

© Janet Martin