Those voices all around me;

“You’re wasting time” they say.

The yard; dishes; big project

Were waiting for today

My lists are overwhelming;

Still waiting to be checked.

If I don’t get those things done

This day just might be wrecked.

My boy; age three, approaches.

His eyes are set on me.

“Mommy, help me with my socks,”

He says beside my knee.

Lifting him to my shoulder,

We hug and rock a bit.

He tells me little stories.

I smile at his whit.

My mind is slow to forget

The lists of undone things.

I feel my son’s beating heart.

It’s pulling at my strings.

My ten minutes pass away.

The list, I do not touch.

I bonded with my little one.

Not one list means as much

When I am old and gray haired,

With not much time to spare,

The memories of these snuggles,

Are treasures I will wear.

I can’t say, “Good bye” to lists;

They’re always there for me.

Until the day I get to pass,

I never will be free.

I will enjoy each moment

I have with my young one,

And carry smiles and sunshine;

Gifts from my little son.

By: 

Nicholeen Peck

2007