The Maple

I’m vacuuming up bits of dead leaves in my daughter’s room     and picking up Legos and beads
and wondering if I should get the trash can and offload things           when my husband calls and
says I have a Zoom at 4:30 could you watch the kids then?         and my daughter comes in and
sees her Wonder Woman costume in the Goodwill bag and cries out Mama what are you doing?
and I still need to call Nan and convince the kids to sing to her         when what they really want
is to play Minecraft and someone is singing Post Malone’s “Sunflower” in a cat voice         meow
meow meow meow meow meow meow meow and there are still 74 projects to grade     and I need
to schedule the kids’ well checks and catch up on emails and my son yells   from the other room
Can you bring me my water?                       If I could just get one thing done
If I could set the to do list on fire                                   If I could create a clearing
I might hear the Japanese maple outside the window            whispering in stillness and light

Emily Mohn-Slate is the author of THE FALLS (New American Press, 2020), and FEED (Seven Kitchens Press, 2019). Her poems and essays can be found in AGNI, New Ohio Review, The Adroit Journal, The Long Devotion: Poets Writing Motherhood, and elsewhere. She lives in Los Angeles, CA.