May 21, 2005

Exorcism

Awakened in the night, you called out.
Parental ears caught your crier secours.
Ears tuned to certain frequencies
Used only for in-flight emergency.

Rode to rescue with deliberate speed,
As grandparents are wont to do.
"A fly landed on my leg, grandpa.
Make it go away and leave me alone."

Grandparents, and Parents too,
Harken to what children mumble
in half-asleep, half-awake voices.
Hearing you, he parsed your request.

The easy part was solved with
Exaggerated arm-waving, guaranteed to
Drive off long gone trespassing insects.
Both knew it necessary but insufficient.

Bent down, kissing your forehead,
He whispered in your ear:
"Grandpa will sit in the chair,
Make sure it doesn't come back."

to Journal Main Page