my dreams say i’m not nurturing
my little girl so i wonder how to
do that now in this place in a new
way my small boy child
always appears when i’m working
on a new writing project he’s here
too, his usual dark self
this novel has been a long process
again this time more flow, but no
utter resolution yet no publishing
involved in any of my work yet
i’m getting old to be waiting
so i look for something to nourish
these children of me they see more
than i can from this too adult place
they are the creators of my ideas
what shall i feed them?
a day of the beach?
a few hours of doing nothing?
some new adventure might
be more appropriate to their
age, a new word on my lips
the sight of my own reflection
in your mirror something cold
and sweet on my tongue?
we’ll have to experiment to
find the perfect antidote for
the poison of too much adulthood