Drifting
Claire Scott

Can you feel it the slight flutter
an almost lift of your feet
no longer as firm on the ground
hovering, not so certain of basics
like hospital corners on beds
or how to mulch the tea roses
fewer phone calls, fewer texts
no word at all from your college roommate
who used to write several times a month

A grandson looks at you quizzically
no longer wants to play Scrabble
your frenzied daughter doesn’t ask
how to fix a too salty stew, or would
distressed jeans be OK for a first date
Mildred next door nods and smiles, but doesn’t
ask how to store bulbs over the winter
or would you take in her mail next week
when she goes to Nantucket

can you feel the wavering, the wafting
the almost imperceptible
drift out to the sea

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