Fragmenting into Teens

3Amigos (2)They’re training me well for the decades to come,

watching the News Year’s Concert from Vienna on my own.

Minecraft blocks in bland primaries fill their screens.

Pressure cooks; I shout and shout.

‘One more minute, please, Mum!’

At least they still say please.

Books he once loved

scatter in abandon on the floor or foisted

upon unwilling younger brother.

He still knows the name of every dinosaur ever excavated,

corrects my eras when I stutter.

If only his detailed lists extended to homework,

his attention to detail had bearing on his missing objects.

A few more months

to snuggle my nose against his smooth cheeks

and breathe in sulky childishness

before the razor bites.

 

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8 thoughts on “Fragmenting into Teens”

  1. Lovely! It’s sad to watch them reach the age when they start to pull away from you, even though you know they have to and that you wouldn’t want it any other way.

  2. I love your poetry so much, and this is my favourite ever. I don’t know how you do it – you’ve captured that age, that potential for loss and growth, so perfectly. Incredible. You make me want to try and write poetry x

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