September 7, 2011

I forget that you are small



By the end of each day
I forget that you are
small.

Perhaps it’s because
I haven’t gotten around
to baby swimming lessons
or those drop-in music classes
where the parents sing along
nervously.

You and I are just
two people
going about our day
together.

It is only when
you are asleep
and I am hanging up your clothes
a shirt
so tiny it is
silly
that I am confronted
by your
littleness.

I have a miniature thesaurus
all those words
compressed into a book
the size of a business card
like a magic trick
life rendered miniscule
as if for a world of literate
mice.

You are like this
all the parts are there
only shrunk
tightly wound
like a scroll
a story that slowly
unfolds.

 

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