Limitless: a poem by Susan Shea

sugar maples, image by diapicard, on Pixabay, modified

Limitless

I am missing my students

on this grey-haired day

I would like to show them

my neighbor using his

rebuilt shiny red leaf blower

pushing his fallen leaves

into a neat pile, even though

the sky is still raining down

unfinished business

courtesy of oaks and maples

I would like to make sure

my middle-schoolers notice

he is smiling just a little

as he goes on and on

because someone must have

instilled a sweetness deep

inside him like the syrup

in his trees waiting to be shared

at just the right time

Susan Shea is a retired school psychologist who grew up in Brooklyn, NY, and

now lives in a forest in Pennsylvania. Her poems are in or forthcoming from Ekstasis,

The RavensPerch, Cloudbank, Foreshadow, Green Silk Journal, Radix Magazine,

The Write Launch, Umbrella Factory Magazine, Main Street Rag, and other journals. Recently, one of her poems was nominated for Best of the Net and three poems

were nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

June 2025 issue