Fabulous Frogs

by jeanne rené 

 ... some memories on this Mother's Day

I miss

fabulous frogs

held up under my nose

to my cross-eyed astonishment,

 

. . .  the snail parade on the patio steps,

and my disappearing pots and pans,

to brew the scrumptious dirt stew.

 

I miss

looking out the kitchen window,

watching the wind flapping the corners

of the old bedspread tent,

 

. . . the sound

of the bat hitting the cement ,

and new jeans with holes in the knees

from sliding into first base.

 

I miss

action figures with one arm,

shoe boxes of matchstick cars,

kissing puppy giggles,

chasing extraordinary pigeons,

and  cries “I can’t get down from the tree!”

 

If I turn my hourglass over

can each grain of sand be etched

with the past . . .

 

I miss

two sleepy heads

bobbing in the back seat,

pulling up in the driveway late at night,

and gently disturbing their dreams,

 

. . . giving a kiss on each sticky forehead,

and turning off the lights with a prayer on my lips.

 

jeanne rené  10/04