Original poems & found images.
–by Mia Sara
Weekend at El Cap with Fifth Graders
Here we watch the kids go mock wild;
my wits all run to seed, and scatter,
more itchy weeds for the cracked riverbed.
We all lose track of our child
in the cold, after dark, when it matters,
half-tanked at the fire pit, our heads
tight in the shrink-wrapped void of time.
My wits, in ashes, ashes. At El Cap.
I used to hold her in my lap,
this fierce and final child of mine.
El Capitan, a canyon between: a pit
for molten mallows burnt to the crisp,
pit for hoodwink-mischief, pit for song,
pit for us aging hangers-on to sit,
stoking old flames, inhaling the wisps
of smoke and soot to make us strong,
not strong enough to let them go.
My wits, in ashes, ashes. At El Cap,
nature breaks the heart of parenthood:
our coolest trick is to never let it show
It’s how they learn to leave us. At El Cap
to risk the dark. On Sunday morning, rise,
as the sun makes light of what’s been lost,
we pack it up, the bikes, the torch, all the crap
we think we’ll need, and never use otherwise.
It’s the best we can do, whatever the cost.
Mia Sara is an actress and poet living in Los Angeles. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in poemmemoirstory, Pembroke Magazine, The Write Room, PANK, Cultural Weekly, The Kit Kat Review, Forge, The Dirty Napkin, St. Ann’s Review, among others. For more please visit: http://wheretofindmiasara.tumblr.com/