days and weeks mostly free of obligation
with a calendar that is blessedly blank,
the wanderlust that lives in me
is quietly musing
while I sit on the front stoop
and watch the hummingbird
sample the red and purple blossoms.
The jogging mom pushing
the baby-buggy greets me
and I hear the persistent drone
I have so many questions:
How did we, as a country,
to slide into such unbridled
Where is the balance between
engaged activism and wise acceptance?
What do my sons need most from me
as they make their first grown-up
choices? When to stay silent
and when to speak?
How do I see what is not illusion
but truth , in all its fearful
©Laurie Lynn Newman