REUTEMANN ROAD POEMS: BABY-SITTING JENNY

Written by

in

BABY-SITTING JENNY

We stroll the park, popping snowberries with our fingers

As I did when a child along the shady drive

Of my best friend’s house.  We’re pleased to find

Ripe Concord grapes hiding under leaves

That vine the walls she loves to walk on.  In the canvas

Swing her small bottom fits my hands

Like a teacup as I lift and send her soaring.

She is old enough to pump herself once

She gets going.  We rescue a daring toddler

Who crawled up the slide as a kitten climbs a tree,

Unable to back down.  Faster than she expects

Jenny rides the slick steel to a sandy

Landing.  She tries it again.  We follow pigeons

To the soda stand, and seagulls lead us to the beach

Speckled at low tide with perambulating periwinkles.

They single foot among the Irish moss and sea lettuce

Where clusters of mussels congregate like Portuguese families.

Seven geese drift by in a low-flying convoy

Nattering about the scarcity of minnows.  Jenny splashes

Ashore to dump her bucket on a sand patty.

The day is opalescent and fragile as fine crystal

Or the beauties she blows on her soap bubble ring.

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *