Like a Tiger

Like A Tiger

March going out
like it came in—
overcast with wind, uncertainty.
The lawn is being
sprinkled, but will it rain?
My mother holds on
to her silence, but a friend calls
from 25 years ago.
The neurotic person I used to be
I see more clearly now,
but what about the person
through whose eyes
I now
see?

I wish my mother were
content. I’m satisfied
to sit here with the sprinkler
and watch buds slowly
unfold into
shade-giving leaves.

It will be summer then.
We will be carefree.


Copyright © 2004 Joseph Somoza