You’re Unfair! Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

When I baby-sit my fair-haired grandson
I see him growing taller each and every day
A wee babe to a young man ready for first grade
Riding a shiny new bicycle much to my dismay

Training wheels were on for only a short time
Before we knew it he said, 'Take them off! '
With confidence he said, 'Watch me go! '
Speeding down the driveway… little showoff

Skidding to a stop…begging his parents to allow
Him to venture onto the hardly traveled street
Be sure to look both ways before you go farther
Be very careful not to fall and hit the concrete

I did not give a contrary view…avoiding conflict
Rather, I held my breath in silent prayer
Seeing him in the street sent chills down my spine
When I am in charge I don’t allow… that’s unfair!

'Grandma why are you being mean to me? ' he declared
Don’t you know that I know how to watch for traffic?
Yes, my dearest treasure… I know that you are smart
But when you’re in the street…I get visions that are graphic

The next day he had a calm demeanor and he was pensive
I know why your hair gets grayer when I ride in the street
You don’t want me to be dead…because then I’ll be gone
The fear of losing me makes you turn as white as a sheet

Now when Grandma comes over…there is no mention
Risky adventures are not debated…relieving inner tensions

8/27/09