Lazy afternoons now, I go to the woods and fields alone
Saddened by my children’s disinterest in these things
I had hoped would bind us across
The time and distance of their adulthood, which now
Appears so imminent
But how does the burr of a sawtooth oak
Or the fringed edge of an owl’s found feather
Compete with the latest garish Instagram post,
Or the adolescent self-imposed seclusion
Protecting them from the questions of their foolish parents
With each crackling step upon the forested floor
The fallen leaves whisper the words of Harry Chapin,
Singing of cats in cradles and silver spoons
And I am reminded of another time, another life
In which my own reflection was seen poorly
As if in a clouded mirror
And as I searched to see clearly
I found the hurt in the aged eyes of those who raised me
As my Sunday afternoon basketball games with friends
Took the place of an afternoon spent
Casting light line upon the water
From an old, worn dock
With an old man who loved me
10-13-19
©2020 Lenny Wells
Thoughts From The Orchard 