A Winter Morning with My Eyes Wide Open

My eyes wide open

(for they are not always open, I assure you)

I approach my local subway entrance.

 

Today, instead of railing in my mind

about the cars illegally stopped

(not parked, officer; just stopped

for a few minutes)

in front of the subway entrance and its neighbour,

the day-care center,

instead of railing, I say,

I simply note, eyes open.

 

The mother leaves the driver's seat

and opens the back door of the car,

to extract a colourful round ball:

her winter-dressed toddler.

 

She places him/her on the icy ground

then stretches to reach the giant backpack

that accompanies all of today's children.

 

As I pass the car

the mother and bundled toddler

hand in hand

wrestle themselves

over the rough and icy

windrow of snow that lines the curb,

a gift from our road-clearing snow plows.

And as they struggle

and as I pass,

I hear the mother's soft voice reassuring

her puffy ball of humanity:

"and now you put your other foot right there . . .

and then we'll be inside and you can play with . . ."

 

And then they are behind me and I vow,

in light of such rewards,

to aim for eyes wide open all my days.

 

 

Copyright 2013 Ann Tudor

www.anntudor.ca
http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com