watching
little boys
serve and volley
volley and serve
strong backhand answers
to dropshot questions

corralled tennis balls
look like a
basket full of
fuzzy light
fluorescent chances
each sphere a promise

I smell
sweet children
sunshine,
sunblock
and the start
of a poem

hoping for matching socks
and meals that magically appear
an obvious paradox
both far and very near

mother's little helpers
play well with pinot grigio
one day whispers
yesterday is long ago

a sink full of dishes
hard to swallow screams
it's always Prozac wishes
and sweet Ambien dreams

watching his fine fingers
massage ivory and ebony
I tell him about the
world of words
which I adore and abhor

he holds on to all 
my comments
c a r e f u l l y
treating everything
I say like a priceless treasure

I am delighted
he tells me
to visit
you in your
dreams

his music--
angular motifs,
direct motivation--
he behaves like he
belongs behind my eyes

For the musical response to this poem, click here.

when, he asks
never, say I
why, he growls
because, I reply

come on, he says
no, say I
whatever, he shrugs
yes, I reply

Yes? He smiles
yes, say I
when, he asks
never, I reply

If envy is green
and rage is red
I wonder about sad
and the color of dread

My passion is purple
my moods are blue
I think about indifference
and its ever changing hue

Fear seems to be yellow
adoration: pink
Desire's color changes
with each brief blink

Some thoughts are black
Memories can be gray
My dreams are as vivid
as an exotic bouquet