the future’s sitting at my table–

i don’t realize cause i’m
on the other end, commenting poems

“you should wear your glasses mom..”

they cooked vegetables for their dinner,
i’m not even sure how long she stays

laughing the distance silent, asking questions i
can’t answer cause i’m riding thousand trains,

she studies chemistry in Lausanne
& she’s got a winning smile, it balances
between the broccoli and laptop screen
and somehow makes it to my heart

i’m looking up and
for the first time see them–
walking into life and

i forget to get my glasses


Franzi is a friend of my daughter Miriam and she visited us over the weekend


28 responses to “Franzi

  1. Oh Claudia this one strikes me in the gut. I have mine 50% of the time and when they are not here, like now, I chastise myself. Why didn’t I laugh with them more, why didn’t I hold them more when I had them. Mine are still little but half their childhood is gone and then they will be “walking into life.”

  2. They never cease to surprise…even after they have left home. I was amazed to find that my son loves cooking, though not so surprised that my daughter specialises in baking amazing cupcakes! generally I find, even if they seem to be walking away, it is not long before they turn their heads and smile at me.

  3. So many of the changes that we wished for… have happened right before our eyes…the lessons taught were learned and now we must accept who the teachers were…enjoyed this perspective.

  4. “i’m looking up and
    for the first time see them–
    walking into life and

    i forget to get my glasses”…

    Suddenly realizing that their wings are spread and they are flying alone is an emotion just as powerful, I think, as the first day we held them in our arms…. Incredible, beautiful feelings here Claudia.. and obviously punched out in the midst of an intensely busy day. The beauty of it is not surprising at all….

  5. So much we want for our daughters; sometimes the weight and width of it is too much and we divert out attentions to smaller things–much like a young child walking with us to town. Hurry up! Our older children are trying to tell us, We’re over here already, See? But like when she was younger, no, we aren’t ready yet to see all that waits ahead…

    Lovely, Claudia. I would very much like to interview you for an article I’m writing for my magazine, Combustus, about how women are expressing themselves with such honesty and broader strokes then previously in art.

  6. I love this, Claudia. It brought back the feelings that I get when my older one is home and I watch him with his friend…I don’t want to miss a thing but I do because life gets in the way. 🙂

  7. Seeing them walking into life is such a bittersweet feeling. But, still we push them forward. Lovely poem Claudia. It gives such a nice glimpse of your feelings for your children. You’re proud of them and I’m sure, they’re proud of you.

  8. In between the comments, life happens. And poetry, sometimes. Lovely snapshot of the kitchen table where the heart is fed.


    Future and past
    Mind’s riding trains
    Rodeo driving
    While silently seated

    Patti Smith sings horses
    Waiting for the silver blade
    To cut the shower curtain
    Behind which smiles the rain

    Shapes are passing through
    Bright colours sweet allure
    Jumping from train to train
    Always ready for the white station

  10. this is so beautiful and in the moment. it feels like you just rattled it off, so effortless, like it came out perfect the first time.
    glad you had a good weekend:)

  11. Hi Claudia,

    I stumbled upon your site through Ruth and Brian Miller, two of my favourite Blog poets. It’s lovely to meet you and see that you too write in English rather than German. I am a German living in the UK.

    Realising that children have become adults is heart-stoppingly, breath-takingly shocking, yet, at the same time, a joy, because that is what mothers do, raising fledglings and watching them fly.

    I shall be back, I’d love to join in the poetry fun; I’ll try and find out how to go about it.

  12. My 15 yr old told me she was old enough to make her own pancakes and that she was far too sheltered. I said “Go ahead, you clean up the mess after you.” Few mins later I walked into the kitchen about 30 seconds before the fat in the pan caught fire… Hmmm
    It was smoking so much and just about ready to blow. She admitted then that maybe she ought to let me ‘show’ her what to do…. Sheesh!
    You captured a lovely moment in this!

  13. whassup C…sorry i am late to the party on this one…could not comment forsome reason but on break between sessions and it is letting me…so….oy they grow up so fast…andwhen they get to the age of independence where they are walking into their own life…i really dont look forward to that day honestly…i want to keep my “glasses” on for now…smiles.

  14. A terrific poem, sometimes we are so absorbed with our lives, they’re so absorbed with theirs and then the two worlds connect for a moment…You may have forgotten your glasses but you did capture the moment… 🙂

  15. ok, first … how the heck did you get your kids to make vegetables for dinner?! (said with love and laughter =) pshaw.

    this is beautiful. We have sent both our boys walking and now the two girls, though still at home… I can hear their restlessness in the starting gates. Hopefully, I can hold them at bay a bit longer.

  16. the hardest part of parenting for me was being supportive as my daughter was taking another step toward independence. all i can say is that i felt that was my job so i had no other choice and we have only gotten closer. a tender write, claudia. ♥