Not quite yet

April 7, 2014


It’s so hard

to love a teenager.

They don’t smell good,

either they stink of cheap deodorant

Or sweat

Or the urgent desire to fit in.

They snap at any little thing-

“how are you?”

“Where are you going?”

Don’t ask unless you know

They will not answer.

Or if they do,

It will cost a large slurpee.or ten dollars or


His voice will not

Belong to the one you love.

It will be lower

Or  delivered in a funny accent

Or it will reek with disdain, or impatience,

Or misinformation

Designed to distract you

From whatever it is they don’t want you

To know.

It is hard, and humbling, and

Impossible to love this

Big Footed, Deep Voiced, Mysterious, and Weird

Soul that lives with you..

It is Amazing when you see signs

They still love you.

They smile.

You swoon.

They laugh.

You swoon.

They listen.

You stop and try to remember what it was you  said.

You stop everything,

You turn off the phone, you step outside, you close your eyes.

You try to remember what you said.

While they discover the rest of the world outside of you.

I think that’s how it goes.

I think that’s how it goes,

I’m not there yet.


One Response to “Not quite yet”

  1. Ah, this so brings back my own years with sullen teenagers. Just remember: in the US, where we allow for protracted childhoods, this is in his job description.

    It’s lovely to see you writing poetry again. You’ve always touched me with your words.

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