Caught

If I could stop the world
in certain moments,
today I would stop
on building a snowman...
laughing in mid-day sun and
wrestling sticks from the dog
as you chased fruitlessly but
happy and elated in your freedom.

I would freeze out imperfections
and lapses of calm or patience.
We could leap over or pause
prior to lost tempers or cyclical
frustrations or even just exhausted
and age-influenced inertia stuck
in bones and joints like
thick cotton stuffing.

Some days I try so hard
and still fall short; reaching
for some imagined ideal
of nurturing, patient perfection.
Neither Cleaver nor Clytemnestra,
just frail, human mommy who
struggles some days to
be present and calm in the chaos.