How many times to sing
“Redemption Song”? The first
song I thought to sing him
when he needed singing in the NICU
Some other parent sang nursery rhymes
in curtained spaces with beeping monitors
to metronome the time
Not knowing any rhymes, I went with Marley
it stuck and now it’s ours
Quiet, now, he settles in to rocking
my voice trails off to mumbles
this song of freedom…
Moonlight, thunder moon
streaming in through the live oak
the passing hours marked
by moonlight dropping down the blinds
The dogs dream
their twitch-footed dreams
the squirrel finally caught,
whimpers and low growls
The fan spins
beneath its spider shadow
ceiling jungle
Dim lines trace frames
black pictures on the wall
beyond the room… I can’t see them
but I imagine what they might be
surely not the same images
hung there years ago, not
at this hour. They’ll have shifted
become things I can’t conceive,
ideas of things that can’t exist
in morning light
Everything is strange now
and somehow more easily understood
His breath slows against my shoulder,
he sighs much like the dogs,
and I watch the late minutes tick
through this room of simplest
dreams
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
Beautiful, James. Thank you for posting it.
Thanks, Deb. Glad you liked it.
Very sweet. Save this for when he gets a bit older. 🙂
Oh, I plan to. Hopefully he’ll like poetry…
[…] down on my iphone between games of Words with Friends and reading blogs. I tried cobbling them into a poem but when I saw qarrtsiluni‘s call for submissions for the fragments issue, I sent the notes […]