Son Sets

.

Like those nesting dolls

in graduated sizes

my sons became

encased each year

inside of bigger boys.

Now grown and sealed

inside tall men

they’re unaware

I still see through

a mother’s eyes

to all those younger little boys

still playing deep inside.

.

.

(c) 1992, 2021  Betty Hayes Albright

(A re-post; also previously published in Skipping Stones)

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This week my first born son turns 50….! 

(Hard to grasp, as I still haven’t accepted that I’m over 50! 😊 )

And I still often see that little boy still playing deep inside him. 

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Iron Cocoon

.

.

In-a-Gadda-da-Vida

we danced to our favorite

solo of drums

till Keith turned on

Folsom Prison Blues

and we dosey-doed

in a square-dance spoof,

Tom’s arm

in-a-cast-in-a-sling

but feeling no pain,

for we couldn’t see

through the smoke in the room

and we would be young forever.

 .

When the haze finally cleared

to reveal gray hairs

we still felt the beat

in-a-light-a-day-now

as butterflies —

and it’s not really bad

being older.

.

.

© 1992, 2019 Betty Hayes Albright

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(Re-post, reminiscing about the good old days, Iron Butterfly’s hit song “In a Gadda da Vida”, and Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues”.)

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Blurry photo from 1971 (age 24), taken at an outdoor rock concert at Seattle Center. 

Dig the hat!  😊  

(I’m pushing a stroller with 6 month old son sleeping inside. He happens to be 48 today. Geez, time flies….)

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Class Reunion

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This world has changed

since you and I

allowed the years

to wrinkle by

.

without a pause

we didn’t notice

the quiet closing

of the lotus.

.

Now we fail

to recognize

the crinkles ‘round

each other’s eyes

.

when one says no,

the other yes —

a corner turned

yet I confess

.

that deep inside

I’ll ne’er forget

your Romeo

to my Juliet.

.

.

©  2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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Turn Around

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1970

.

The gray haired lady

next door

thought I didn’t see her

ducking behind a curtain

watching me

on my knees

weeding the rose garden

four months pregnant

long hair like Cher’s

with the bangs

husband on the porch

playing “Guess Who”

on our new 8-track

wondering

if it was too loud.

.

2018

.

I duck behind the curtain

convinced they can’t see me

watching them

as she sweeps the porch

pregnant belly half bare

short hair in spikes,

her boyfriend’s Harley

revving up

tattoos shining

heavy bass beating

from a window.

I hope they don’t see me

but yes

it’s just too loud.

.

.

© 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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