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2020-08-17T12:50:42-04:00August 16th, 2020|Parenthood|

Books about life rafts

His emotions thrash around in his thin chest
like a boy drowning
and I am his mother
so of course I must save him
but he can’t seem to catch
any of the life rafts
I throw at him.

I have bought so many books
about life rafts
but better mothers must know
you can’t rescue anyone
with a book.

I want to soothe him
and yell at him
at the same time
so instead
I go for a drive.

I pull over
almost right away
and cry in my car
which makes me think
of a scene in a movie
and makes me less sad
because now it doesn’t feel
like my story.

And of course it isn’t,
as I get home
many hours later
to a happy nine-year-old boy
who reminds me
without saying a word
that the only one
who needed rescuing
was me.

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