Posts published in “Little One”

All of these clicks, clacks, cracklings of the joints count down the seconds wrapped in days waiting for you to be the embodiment of happiness, that wrapped joy just waiting to be molded by us, by our successes and our failures– and your own–, and our love of everything you do despite those.

Blinded, but feeling about with feet for the next steps we need to take, we’ll take care of you as best we can, holding on to now as much as memories; I know you’ll grow tired of them, but trust me, they’ll be worth something later– you’ll see.

Your Mom greets when you knock, hoping you’d reply, and you always do.

1, 1, and now we’re 3.

i’ll be on the road
with my navigator, and she’ll
be asleep, holding that
belly of hers, giving me
reason to split the lips
when smiling, and a tire will blow
or a radiator crack, and
i will have to slowly park
against the stream of highway travelers,
they who care not if we rejoin or disappear,
and i will leap to action, wake my one, and give
chase to thoughts of the worst possibilities,
letting adrenaline lead while reason sleeps,
and i will stand, breathing a chuckle, staring
inside myself at the scene of a situation
i didn’t bother to think of, but know i’ve got
all i need to handle it and get back in my seat
and go.

preppin for the eventuality
of everything falling apart around me.

You’ve got
those closed eyes
and fingers;
I’ve got
a smile which
lingers.

Counting the months,
But I know they are but days
In wait of your presence,
Turning thoughts to years
Of which there will be many,
Ours, these memories forming
In my head, dancing, with a wiggle,
As you do in your mother’s belly.

She held her breath,
Giving in to the situation,
Letting the veins expand and the vocal chords twist to garble a voice that only brings happiness.
She held her breath,
Clavicle raising, fingers finding
Way to the silver crosses across her neck,
Grounding her from
The shock we knew was coming,
Giving us a start on this life, round 3.

33 and a father,
never thought i’d bother
to be responsible.
33 and a father,
got myself a daughter,
a reason
to be responsible.
33 and a father,
a husband still trying
to be human,
but still well-defended.

I’m laughing to think of
All the days we spent,
Travelers lodged for the night,
Greeting each other to sleep;
I’m laughing to think of
All that we’ve come from
To be here, about to be three
Or more– I’m laughing to think of
How these nerves line skin and shrink
At thought of you, just like they did
When we were young and dumb and
Had so much more to come– I’m
Laughing to think of who you were to me
Before we could be, and who I was
To you, PissAnt, before we could be–
I’m laughing to think of
How my cheeks squeeze these eyes to bleed
Tears they know will dry on gleaming smile,
Waiting for yours to show itself and then we
Can be these, we three or more, and laugh
To ourselves for all to see.

How did we
Get to where
Our hearts now
Reside in you?

I remember
Waking, worrying
About making you late
For work, for life
Outside our 2-bedroom,
4-wall sleeping chamber;
I remember
The bus rides,
Waiting, walking
About to find time to waste
For sanity, for clarity
Of what we needed when
Nothing was attainable;
I remember
You driving in the evening,
Picking me up
Before you could fall asleep
And we could
Repeat the reality
Of being together
For the rest.