Dear Son

Dear Son

I know you’re

not sorry about

breaking that glass

in anger,

but the dishes

don’t choose

you, nor does

the laundry,

the trash,

the broom,

the dust

pan. You

choose

them.

Maybe it’s

because, now,

you’re still

too young. But,

one day, you’ll

sneak in a

scrub of the

grout before

you shower, just

because you

can.

You’ll tell

her you love

her by the

number of

times you

rinse the

dishrag.

For now,

take a

breath.

Close your

eyes.

I make

no distinction

between you

and your

sister.

I’ll let

your heart

be the

arrow,

whatever

the mark

may be,

so you’ll never

have to keep

a record of

chores.

Image: Jacek Dylag of Unsplash

April 25, 2021

#NaPoWriMo2021 No. 25

1 Corinthians 13: 4-8