The New Mile

When my kids were little, I never thought they’d grow,

The late nights, early mornings, and the fits that they would throw.

How many hot dogs cooked? How many trips to Chucky Cheese?

Hours spent each long, long day finding new ways to please.


The fish that were bought and the God forsaken tank,

Who knew such quiet, small creatures could put out so much stank?

Hamsters running in their wheels, squeaking all night long,

My parrot Chaucer, moon walking and singing M.J.’s song.


The smell of  strong B.O. that accompanied Middle School,

The rolled eyes declaring I was no longer cool,

High school brought the O.C. and too many trips to the mall,

As kids grew they wondered – when did I get so small?


Now they’re grown and I can do what I want to do,

Problem is I have forgotten how “me” works without “you.”

So, I’m going to eat and watch t.v.a while,

Until I locate “me” again and start down that new mile.