Poem about lockdown with children

Poem about lockdown with children

Jaime Palter

I mean to take my phone out to the trampoline
Every afternoon when the kids and I do our bouncing
When we collapse in a heap on our backs, breathless
The tree above looks different every time
After all, it's spring, so the buds, that were at first imperceptible,
Then tiny fists both crushing and nursing something within
Are now exploding with tiny flowers.
If I had my phone, I could take a picture every afternoon
And record each infinitesimal change while lying on my back.
Or, on two days that it looks almost unchanged
How the clouds behind the branches moved,
made new shapes.
But those pictures would miss all
the rainy days when we stared out the windows
and the giggles, the games we invented
The fear, boredom, and lonesomeness.
Besides, should I always have my phone at my hip?
With all the news and numbers and words.
Because it's not just for the trees or the kids or the giggling:
When I'm at the apex of one bounce, before the rebound and the creaking strain of springs,
There is no tether.

English

Wakefield, RI

Poem aboutlock down with children