Spring afternoon interrupted with politics (free verse poetry)

(From my original Blogspot)

Something unnameable Is executed by nature In March. The air is fresh, lightly warmed, Holding yet a crisp touch.

If weather were flavored, This would be mint.

I am a mother, busy, and careful. I see the pretty day as I walk past my windows, attending to tasks. But an eager voice calls my name, “Come, mother, and see some dogs I have made friends with!”

All right.

Together on bikes, my young son and I Feel the touch of spring.

On this afternoon the sun is just as pleasing as the shade.

We stop. My young one greets a kind, elderly face. “I’m here to play with your dogs!” I cringe - Is my offspring impudent? I, the nervous adult Am too conscious of conventions. But no, there is no offense here, The friendly grizzled face is kind and Invites us to his dogs.

Ah, ethereal March. Sun slants across the yard, filtering And spilling in patches across Dog-worn grass. A Frisbee and a slobber-coated ball Eagerly tossed by a boy’s small hands – Heedless of the sticky wetness and Frayed plastic edges that Cause adult spines to crawl.

Time has stopped, officially. A child is playing in the spring air with dogs.

----- In this beauty, a solemn thought Breaks into my peace. This freshness, this freedom Is stark contrast to news Received this morning. Last night, our nation’s lawmakers Passed a bill authorizing national health care. Speechless. I am rarely struck speechless.

We are now dependent. Dependent is not free.

Not free.

In my time, this marks the change. Every generation has seen change. But this is my change.

Oh dear, an inward weight I carry. Little boy with the dogs, Whose body is fresh and strong, Whose intellect is alive, Whose curiosity is always pricked, Whose tongue is always telling new exciting tales – Who is unafraid to play with the neighbor's dogs, You have national health care. You are no longer as free as you think.

Never mind - play on. God gave us this afternoon of bliss at no charge. No government forms were filed For this privilege. The price was only to take A young, tender hand And to greet a friendly grizzled face In mint-like air. And see the sun slanting through trees On dog worn grass.