He taught me how to ride a bike
And how to drive a car
To always sauté spinach
But eat tomatoes how they are
How to tell a Monarch
From a Tiger Swallowtail
To always pick out postcards
And put them in the mail
How to float out in the ocean
And paddle a canoe
I hope I can do half as well
When I am teaching you
I miss the men in dress shirts
Looking tidy with their ties
Coats of seersucker and poplin
Switch to tweed as Fall goes by
Belts that match their shoes
Tailored pants that fit just right
Those handsome men in dress shirts
Are the District’s finest sight
It’s time to shop for seeds to start
In little fuzzy squares
Time to sift through sock drawers
Sort those lone socks into pairs
Time to check your smoke alarms
And see if they’re expired
Time to sit down on the couch
And let yourself be tired
Time to work and rest and write
And map out who you’ll be
Choose how you will live your life
In twenty-twenty-three
I like to eat the egg yolk
He likes to eat the white
I’m strongest in the afternoon
He’s strongest in the night
He listens to his podcasts
At accelerated speed
I lose focus when I listen
And would much prefer to read
He wants everything connected
To the Internet of Things
I prefer fresh air and sunshine
And the daffodils in spring
She watches and remembers
All that she can see
Should I teach her of
The world as it is
Or the world
As I wish it to be?
I gave myself
Permission to write
Twenty minutes
Morning or night
Instead of resolutions this year
What permission do you need to hear?
Raffi says that “Everything Grows”
And I would say that Raffi knows
But things should not grow in all spaces
Our fruit drawer
Is one of those places
At ten pm, she has an urge
To scrub the bathroom sink
Then she wants to eat an apple
And she wants some milk to drink
Then she has to use the potty
But through her plans I see
This kid’s never been a mama
But this mama once was three
Emily Adkins Bostian 