INSIDIOUS

They come when you least expect them
appear seemingly out of nowhere
at first so small they go unnoticed
but never unheard, for what they lack
in size, they make up for in volume.
The get beneath your skin, take
root, steal into your heart, and find
themselves in the brain’s synapses.
Before long they cannot be ignored
like a drug for which you need ever
increasing doses as they become more scarce.
You know you are hooked, you know
that cold turkey withdrawal is never
an option, just something about which
you read about and twice a year
you cast logic and economics
two winds of fate, spend lavishly
for you know parents who spoil children
must be admonished and abhorred
and grandparents who do not
should be treated equally so.

A PERFECT MOMENT

A week ago there was a moment
that perfectly summed up life,
at least as seen by a three-year-old.
Three-year-olds know far more
than they are given credit for knowing,
far more, they are certain,
than their parents, and just enough
to make their grandparents laugh
at the most inopportune moments.
It was lunchtime, always a period
where so very much can go
so very quickly wrong, but all
was peaceful on this day, much laughter
and conversation until the moment
he twisted his mouth, and in a voice
more suited to an arena, announced
“I can’t believe . . .
I have salad . . .
in my mouth!”