A Mom's Life

I shared this poem with a college friend after reading her blog this morning. She really like it and asked if I would post it for others. As a sometimes frazzled mother of one, this is how I feel sometimes when I get to the end of the day. Enjoy!

“Day’s End”

The endless flow of chatter has finally ceased.
I’m alone at last, with only the flip of these folios
And the strains of a Brahms sonata to permeate the stillness.
My little one is in bed, and my shell-shocked brain can finally pause—
Or not, as he emerges to beg another drink of water, another trip to the bathroom.

Alone again (for good this time?) I ponder
How quiet the printed page is…

It cannot talk back to me, tell me it doesn’t like me anymore,
Threaten to take a long vacation.

It won’t whine for the latest toy or the most sugar-filled breakfast cereal,
Sometimes in the same sentence.

It is not forever in motion; serifs don’t fidget or fuss
Or jump on the furniture.

Its rhetoric is not accentuated with karate kicks, wrestling throws,
Or the gatling of gunfire.

It does not shout “Mom!” for the thousandth time,
Then forget what it was going to say.

When I’ve had enough, I simply shut the cover
And stop the flow of sounds inside my head.
That’s when I’m reminded that printed words cannot
Suffocate me with bear hugs,
Rub noses like Eskimoses,
Sing along with Mary Poppins,
Build a snow fort,
Sink my battleship,
Or let me win at Uno.

They cannot speak in spoonerisms,
Tell me I’m the best mom in the world,
Or say “I love you” before lights-out.

Still, that black-on-white crispness calms my frazzled nerves
As I close the book on another day of being Mom.

Copyright 2010 by Amy Nemecek