I recall the voices of summer afternoons,
my home filled with the opening of doors,
Laughing, joking, loud TV shows.
I would smile through the exhaustion
and empty refrigerator, as I told a friend
that fifteen kids had touched my heart,
left their mark, become a part of my day.
They often called me “mom”, even if I wasn’t,
Told me their secrets, whispered their fears.
Those days filled me with a sense of being needed,
appreciated, I was honored , I was loved.
Somewhere inside me, I was invigorated.
The tiredness, replaced by a special joy,
a completion of my need to be needed.
Now, the years have aged me, time has passed,
children grown, still the memories remain.
I hear my last teen walk in, laughing with a friend,
The refrigerator opens, the door closes.
“Hey, mom!” say two voices, as I fight a sweet tear.
“Wanna watch TV with us?” You bet I do.
lenwilliamscarver said,
July 23, 2012 @ 8:47 pm
beautiful!
SomerEmpress said,
July 23, 2012 @ 8:47 pm
I like the vulnerability and longing that you express in this, “Summer Afternoons”.
Christy Birmingham said,
July 23, 2012 @ 11:50 pm
I like the idea of memories remaining. Ah, summer days.
bluebutterfliesandmeSindy said,
July 24, 2012 @ 3:50 pm
That is sweet.
jane tims said,
July 25, 2012 @ 1:39 am
Hi. Very expressive poem. I only have one son, but I have great memories of his years with us. I visit him as often as possible and never pass up an opportunity to see him. I like the refrigerator door opening and closing… Jane
readinpleasure said,
July 25, 2012 @ 1:54 pm
ow sweet!