2012-04-11T08:07:04-07:00April 11th, 2012|Parenthood|

The unveiling of so much sound

I’d been told that having a child
would ignite my eyes

pack wonder back into the humdrum of a spoon
the seductive arch of its spine
the tiny rope of beads around the handle
the way your face is upside down and potato-like
when you look into its shallow metal bowl

but I didn’t expect the unveiling
of so much sound

his little hand points constantly to the roars of the city
that my ears have learned to ignore

the rumble of a pick-up truck
the hissing of a bus as it slows down
the way an airplane can hum like a river

this morning he cried when I told him I loved him
and I knew
that he knew
what I was really saying was

it’s so early still
fall back asleep

and I realized
that he can hear more than trains
and the click of the mailbox as the postman leaves

he is wide open
a hungry net
catching all of it
truths and aches
the wondrous bedlam of a life.

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