Manflight
My son, now grown,
testing the wind for flight.
Already he has reached my height
and will surpass it.
His feet still too big
to grow into.
His hands great feats of flesh
to mould and caress.
This boy, this child, this man;
I glimpse his soul through the puzzle
of teenage eyes, the half turn of his head
as his boyish grin breaks through.
Then he sets his sights on the future
and soon, too soon, will be gone.
“Being at home can be fun, insulating, relaxed, boring or isolating ... depending on how the day is going.”*
School holidays are almost over in my part of the world – six long weeks of noise and squabbling balanced by hot, lazy days at the beach or the pool with lots of daring exploits and laughter. Many of our days were spent at home, basking in simple pleasures like baking, playing games or outdoor pursuits – trying to relax the everyday routines of school-morning bustle and ‘having to be somewhere on time’. However pleasant, I must admit to being relieved that life gets back to normal next week, and I can reclaim some of my own time for writing again!
* From Being Mummy by Anne‑marie Taplin published April 2007