MY SONS, MY ADVENTURE

Your size ten sneakers grace our front porch,

too caked with dirt to wear inside,

they greet friends and family as they knock on our door.

 

I buy groceries as if feeding a football team,

and you willingly carry the bags inside,

then devour half the contents.

 

Your music blares from your speakers,

announcing to the neighborhood your presence,

as I do my work to its rhythm.

 

All of this I greet as an adventure, relishing the unexpected hugs,

the parent-son talks, knowing that no matter how old,

you are my sons.

 

And I love you.

 

–Anne Skalitza 2018

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