Sunday in CinCity

Some wadded up clump of denial has washed clear of my psyche and I am finally peaceful with the fact that my children are not ever going to use the set of encyclopedias, old Life magazines, multiple maps of the world, books about the presidents, How Things Work, and The Human Body that I thought they might someday need and use for a report. It is an internet world of information for this generation. So, I am tossing and bagging and schlepping, and otherwise clearing spaces for new adventures. What a fun ride it was with little ones in the house.

It helps that some items can be moved up to our place on the lake. Treasure Quest, James Herriot's Treasury for Children, and Wind in the Willows. The Friends Trivia Game. What I may lack in denial I more than make up for in immaturity.

Boy Blowing Bubbles

By Deborah Pope



They erupt
with the suddenness
and ease of his laughter,
rising like the high,
wobbly syllables
of his singing.
Shimmering, drifting,
perfect in their roundness
as planets in a book,
they issue forth
from his lips
where he breathes
through the wand
like a birthday candle
he is wishing on.
Continuously,
they ride away
in the curve of leaves,
scoop of sky,
rolling without wind
through midsummer,
his gaze steady and lifted
as any creator
to the beautiful,
mortal world
he can still take
into his heart
without misgiving.