Marie Smysor Watson
An ode to brothers... thanks for the sweet parts and the sour. Enjoy me dipping my toes into the wide, wild world of poetry - and this one wasn't even for a grade!
One of my sons - the middle one - has peed on my bed.
On my side, not his father’s, naturally.
But instead of being upset,
Excuse me, pissed,
The sleeve of my yellow sweatshirt is wet but
Oh, I don’t mind.
He is happy, giggling deep-throated,
instead of the blooming frustration he has been growing
Since we moved this bed four months ago
The rage of his pent up special needs
Euphemistically called behaviors
have been tidal-waving every beach we’ve tried to soak up the sun on
Washing away our blankets and towels, our collapsible chairs.
after stripping off the wet sheet and the mattress protector we are
Back on the bed, laughing again, eating Greek yogurt like satyrs
Calling to my youngest son, Boy, bring us another! and him
As little brothers are not often wont to do.