a poem a day for a year #110

by Amy Turn Sharp


7:45 am
leaning towards the dashboard
as if it will warm me to push up against it
coffee mug in hand
the steam up up up
my kid strapped in his booster behind me
wrestling his book bag
odds and bits and bobs
falling to the litter floorboards
I am not listening to him really
as he chatters on about what I have forgotten
to do for him
I am listening just to the radio
as the old Cranberries song
bounces around the interior of my minivan
sad lyrics and my kid
breaks my gaze
mom
mom

the drop off line is a nuisance
we are all like robots
mother metal robots
and all I want to do is open the doors
and dance in the street
but my child
snaps me back to reality
takes all my money
and runs right away from me
without even
a kiss