Tantrum in my mind

There had been a collision
There was trauma — of the peanut-butter-in-hair sort
There was whining and stamping of feet
and one who had retreated 
to a closet to cry
(with occasional backward glance
scanning for audience)
and one who was screaming
and one gnashing teeth
And the drama
distracted the onlookers
from the fact
that what was being asked
was not that hard
and patience was possible
and a good bike ride
putting miles between
the problem and the one who was
refusing to think
could be enough
to reset the scene.

©Wendy Mulhern
September 19, 2012


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