Tuesday, June 12, 2012

To My Son – Still Arriving

The time is almost

when we will touch

when you will first

set eyes upon the open air.

 

The time is almost

when you will come

on a great swelling tide

to this room,

here by the goldfish

and the scattered letters,

to this room

its walls

its dispositions.

 

The time is almost

when the separate sea of your flesh

will meet with those who

conspired to make you.

 

The time is almost,

spring teases at the window and

earth is open to your anticipated

arrival.

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