when I can tune in to The Writer's Almanac
and listen, really hear, Garrison read the poem of the day
while I stare out the window at the sky, the trees--
anything to keep me from getting distracted
by the tasks at hand.
Before I was a mother
I longed for leisurely mornings at home
that would find this act of listening
a regular part of my day.
Now that I am home, often the radio is on
but I do not hear it
while breaking up an argument about who is coloring on who's picture
or hanging the laundry
or loading children into their car seats to get on with our overly-scheduled day.
But today-- the two oldest at preschool,
the baby taking a blessedly long nap--
I'm scrubbing vegetables for dinner (yes, at 9 a.m.)
and can hear every word and instead
of looking outside I see the raw,
fresh nakedness of the carrots and I appreciate
this peaceful moment-- how I imagined it would be, to stay home--
today is a good day.