1. 22:03 26th Feb 2012

    Notes: 1

    Tags: Poemsanna meister

    Young One (draft three)

    for Jackson

    You were born in a bedroom of Steve’s old house.
    I think it was by a grocery store. He was still walking then.
    I was shut quiet on the windowsill for most of your birth,
    but woke all lemon rind curls & couldn’t wait to hold you.
    I knew you were something important. I knew you’d be
    a boy from the start of it all. No one believed me, but I did.

    We are bodies built of the finest grains of sand
    Northern California had to offer, white as our baby teeth.
    Salted skin documented some ten years later, 
    back when we still took vacations. Our voice boxes
    composed of his & hers yeses in the echoing sanctuary
    that held us blond. You are his right hook,
    his beeswax smile, his wordtumbletilIgetitright.
    I am his chin. It’s true she gave me most of her,
    but you can stay outside all day, skinned-knee
    gravel giggle. Nose on glass, I will forever watch
    with envy as the sun kisses at your ankles.

    Wide-eyed moon rock boy, I worry you spent
    too many years thinking your name meant 
    black sheep, meant baby, meant you’ll never be 
    as good as her. Your face & homework assignments 
    reading ambivalence is a choice. Your woven fingers & wit, 
    the only things holding this cross out, paint over, 
    I guess it’s good enough pile of sand family together. 
    Know I will never be as strong as you.

     
    1. phunkmeisterphresh posted this