His mother sits, waits
For him, the visiting son.
She's happy to wait.
Anywhere but there
Where she lives, is good to be.
Old one's common theme.
Sitting a third day
Undoes me. Spine gets cranky.
I stand, lean, and hope.
Husband sits in house
Visiting a friend. I stand.
His Mom waits in car.
Whose idea this? Hers.
I dream of no cars and quiet,
A calm birdsong place.
Waiting turns endless.
Undone, I look for elsewhere,
Cicada song place.
I stand in tree shade.
I write and wait. Small brown
Toto befriends me.
I coo to Toto.
I nuzzle his ears. He sniffs
My leg. Leaves. Returns.
This is Toto's place.
I listen to wind in leaves,
Practice forest Zen.
Toto wanders off.
I remain, pacing the drive,
Breezes soothing me.
His Mom sits and waits.
Toto's back! Camera ready,
I turn to Toto.
"Aren't you getting in?"
His mother asks. I step back,
Startled, say, "Not yet."
Toto ducks, backs off.
No photo for him! Lost now,
This moment is gone.
