Tripping

[DJ RB]

This is another previously published poem. Thanks for reading and I welcome comments.
Tripping
a mother settles on her porch,
unattended,
isolated on a summer day.
she watches her children scramble for a loose ball
"If only I could do that.
Things would be simpler."
she dreams of dropping--
hastened
by an accelerated rhythm--
but drugs
would change little,
she still fears
the seven-legged spider
lingering on her leg,
delaying aggression,
inciting anticipation,
anxious sweat.
as the children
scamper home
they never think
to check mom's pulse.
-Ryan Bis