As she readies her children for school
a mother channels her inner shrew.
Neighbours set their clocks by the early rumblings.
screeching and tears.
A slow one–two-three count to ten
before a sit-down lecture falls on deaf ears.
The shout to put shoes on signals time to go.
In the silence after the storm,
after these crises of miniature proportions,
I imagine her breath slowing,
as a still descends
and the steam from her quiet cup of coffee rises.