Poems & Essays

15 Jun


General/Column No Response

My son sorts through grade school papers,
dangling remains of science projects,
eighteen years of collectibles. Picks
up old toys like a diviner, shifts
them from hand to hand pulling out
private dreams with a smile,
as if I wasn’t here or there.

He realigns his history –
short stacks across the bedroom floor
place Legos with baseball cards,
magical dice next to seashells.
Lambie Pie off alone, plastic eyes fixed in space.

He says he wants to be at college already.
Wants this part over. As he raises an old
running shoe with triumphant care,
we both laugh. Then he slips on his headphones
and we practice leavings. I go to the window.

Down in the yard the plants assemble themselves
for autumn. Take the temperature of the air.
Count the hours of light left in their day.


Patricia Bollin’s poetry has appeared in print and online publications including: Pearl, The Clackamas Review, The Fourth River, Tulane Review, Oregon Literary Review and Mezzo Cammin. Her book reviews have appeared in CALYX and NW Writers. She is the mother of two adult children.

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