Up late.
The NIGHT,
Dreaming awake,
playlist I didn't make.
Windows open, fan on, it's hot.
The house is a Summer mess
because the river
and tomorrow.
Today the x-ray
(buckle fracture /
four weeks
no cast
follow-up before bike camp)
then 10 am opening coffee at Heartwood,
almond butter toast with honey for the injured – dripping all over the good hand.
Five sips, left the rest on top of my car.
“Mom, you littered!” –
once I figured it out.
Two orange juices and another parallel park later,
shoes off on the grass,
seated on a flat spot of shade:
"You can take up half but I need to do my exercises."
"Okay, mom, I just NEED a nap. I'm SO tired."
"Oh of COURSE hunny."
Grass mat, home away from home,
facing east, I think –
at home it's easier to tell.
Five rites...
"No you can't, because you aren't old enough yet."
"Why am I not old enough?"
"I don't know."
1-21, breathe in, breathe out.
"What are you doing now, mom?"
"I have to do my Oms."
Running sounds...
Jumping sounds...
"Mom, watch this!"
"Hold on hunny. I'm doing my Oms."
"Okay."
"Are you done now? Watch this!! I can touch the branch!"
"Okay, but don't fall on your wrist!"
Peeling a tangerine, half snatched by a little hand.
"Mom, do you want to watch the show?"
I turn around.
It's fetch.
When you go out you can watch shows in real life.
Eyvin finds the ball the dog missed,
Befriends the woman.
He throws it.
He finds two wishing stars and we each blow on one.
"What did you wish, mom?"
"I can't tell you. It's a secret."
We go and wave goodbye.
And I'm thinking I have the perfect amount of life in my life at that moment.