i still try to remember
to take my boots off
at the door

my feet are wet
from walking in the rain

i leave laetoli footprints
on the pine floor
-like the first man

trying to walk upright
but can't seem to
get it straight

There's a lot of empty space
in a house
so full of quiet

wishing for thunder.

r ~ 9/5/14

My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.

1
when I was at university
I did some babysitting:
Send the kids to bed
after meals
Never smile at them
and be very strict –
you know the trick
Instill fear in them
They’ll just stay quiet
in their rooms
while you watch TV
till the parents return

2
So there I was in the living room
and the kids in their room upstairs -
except for one brat
looking down and creeping down the stairs
And I’d say: “Back to the room!”
and he’d crawl back
Three times he did that, that brat


3
Then there was a
knock at the door
It was the neighbour, it seems -
a Mrs Lim; she wanted to know
if her kid Sam was in the house
“No,” I said
but the brat from the stairs behind me shouted:
*“I’m here mum –
but he won’t let me out!”