2013-11-27T16:17:36-08:00November 27th, 2013|Parenthood|

London Bridges

I am alone with my limbs
and my mind is my own
to leash to anything

like what kinds of rituals I want
and what kinds of shoes
and how to start that letter
I’ve wanted to write to her
for so long

but in this rare moment
of adult quiet
I sit in the café with nothing
but London Bridges Falling Down
playing in my head
like a lunatic

there are more verses
than I ever knew
which my son sings in his sleep
he is that obsessed
making versions of the bridge all day
out of books and forks and post-it notes

and here I am
infected with the melody
unable to take advantage
of this loop of time
to plunge into the crispness of thought

so I sit staring
at the bridge across the water
cars strung up high as birds
and if you think about it
it’s really quite a feat
which suddenly makes me shiver
like my son does
whenever we cross one
as he asks
like he always does
if this will be the time
it falls down.

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