Wednesday, December 5, 2012



The Sweet Spot

Walking slowly, I move from one task to another

gently bumping against experiences

like a slow motion billiard ball

rolling in angle shots against green felt padded sides.

After years of practice, I sink into a pocket,

caught in the protective net and

feel the exhilaration of victory.

It’s those bank shots that are so stimulating:

figuring the angle,

the point of impact,

finding that sweet little spot on the cue ball,

the follow through and

just the right sensuous tap of power

to set it all in motion.

The mother in me wants to help her child

figure the angles and identify the spots and

to taste the thrill of skill.

But it is the padded bumping that creates my rhythm.

The sensuous tap is rarer than the hourly bumping.

I love to embrace and hold and hug,

But my billiard ball, Brianna, is on the run again

after a quick tap on my cheek.

I bump again as I bustle onto another chore

quietly pondering another day and looking for

that next sweet spot…

her kiss.

 

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