Reading Time: 2 minutes

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION

This is an poem that gently skips through the life of a parent in a manner which I think is best described as 'earthy' - and I mean that in a nice way.  For me Elisa manages to paint pictures in my mind with just these few words and make them indelible. 

Fundamentally the subject matter is a universal expression of the natural desires a parent has for their offspring, and in truth done in such a way as it brought tears to my eyes.

Elisa Wei writes on Allpoetry.com and you can see more of her work at this link: https://allpoetry.com/Elisa_Wei
My brother had two kids before me. A boy who knows
everything and a girl in a sunflower dress.

Before the birth of my son, I would ask about his day.
What new words did the children learn today? What books
are they reading now? What's for dinner?

He'd reply succinctly: same shit, different day.

My son's a year old. We no longer have those Facetimes.
Instead, we complain about the pandemic,

the cost of wheat, the price of inflation. We worry about
adulting so they can worry about nothing.
We comb their hair, warm their food, read them a stack
of books by Eric Carle and hope their world

will have no war. We hope they will have
butterflies and caterpillars that are never hungry.




© Elisa Wei 2022