Mother's Day Afternoon

sniff the air for exported
earthquakes, a status change,
shifting perspective, listen to the boy read,
task mastering his unfinished school work
while the piling up of excess toys makes the room unlivable and
the continuous grass greening, reaching for the sun
growing beyond my control

I am a father on Mother's Day
the tulips' pinched stems, a cold latte,
a thousand small sins and misinterpreted gestures,
poor timing and non-synchronized rhythms,
redemption is for someone else.