a voice for one

we could always tell 

from the first words my dad spoke

when he picked up the phone

that he was talking to his brother Jim

his voice was louder than normal

had an ironton missouri twang

and it contained a unique

and exuberant joy

this voice was used by my father

only when he spoke to his brother

and today that voice is gone

having nobody else in this world
to talk to 

salina, ks

early this morning

as the thunderstorm rolled in

i fed you the names

to its each of its parts

to push aside your fear

we repeated the words

like mantras

each time a flash

came through the seam

in the hotel blackout curtains

your words smaller

and a moment behind mine

lightning...lightning

thunder...thunder

lightning...lightning

thunder...thunder

after the storms had passed

and the morning arrived

you woke

and turned your head

to the windows again

you spoke

as if you were talking

to your toddler friends

who were getting into their parents cars

the morning after a sleepover

bye bye lightning

bye bye thunder

bye bye dark

an axle in your bellybutton

just like the wind turbines
we saw driving i70 
through kansas the day before

you spun slowly all night 
between us
in the king size hotel bed
your head in my armpit
your feet in my face
your ribcage across my knee

the tiny mechanisms
of your sleep
groaning quietly
as you turned

scratch

If, as the cue ball
You could scoop from the pocket
And aim again




--------
the above is a "poemlet" from my sister
an amazing writer
and person of tender sentiments
and melissa and i am honored
and touched by her words.
and by the fact she allowed me
to post this here
with a title of my own addition
-------

are/were

for a few more hours today
You are Schrodinger's embryo
You are quantum
You are alive, implanted, thriving and dividing
and at the same time already gone missing
slipped away over the edge silently
while we were both watching so intently
and so unable to see

our only evidences
were twinges on tuesday
and nausea today
and all i have are those descriptions
and the wrong size boxes
in which to put them

it is now 6:29pm CST
and all week we have been on
increasingly sharpened tenterhooks
balanced between tears of two flavors
without a grain of middle ground in sight

captain nugget and the fuzzy cargo

it was probably 
the abnormal amount of rain
and the distant flashes of lightning
working their way
through the folds in your blackout curtains
at 3:17 this morning
that raised your alarm

we took shifts laying on the floor 
next to your bed
one hand extended up into yours
trying to soothe you back to sleep
but unable to let go 
and move towards the door
without you raising your head 

it wasn’t until i thought about the quilt
your mama draped over me 
when my shift started
that i understood

the quilt my grandma ellie made for me 
when i was only one
has Noah’s ark on a blue background
all the animals looking out their windows
with an owl at the top 
watching the waves curling against the orange hull

you were surrounded in your crib
by a rainbow giraffe
blue bear the green dog
a small mouse holding a green blanket
a washington u ladies basketball bear 
with converse high tops
an elephant with a light in its back
projecting stars and planets on the ceiling
and minnie mouse and sock monkey 
nestled into the corner

you had brought them all aboard last night
each and every one confirmed
the same as every night
up from the couch
up the stairs to your room
and into their proper places among your blankets

and now you standing at the bow of your bed
your hands gripping the top railing tightly
like a ship’s captain on the rough and squirming seas
awake on the helm all night 
eyes locked onto the horizon
keeping the ship at right angles
to the wind 
and to the waves

the world behind the stroller this morning

was the smell of humid earth

shocked into action

by a rare high desert rain last night

was the sound of bits of songs

you murmured like a mantra

interrupted by the words

for the animals along the way

was the sight of your hand reaching out

from under the shaded canopy

every time we walked next a juniper bush

or patch of feather reed grasses to let them wave and flutter through your fingers

big munny, little munny

on our early morning stroller walk today

we see the first fawn of the year

a tiny spotty puppy-sized mule deer

grazing in the gambel oaks with its mama

the waning gibbous moon setting behind us

through a grove of cypress

the sun rising ahead of us

filtering through fluttering aspen in the creek

by what will be your elementary school

we hear a woodpecker

pecking out its morse code mating call

staccato on the stucco side of a house

all the way down the street we see rabbits

and using your word for them

we call them out together

big munny

little munny

big munnies stock still by the russian sage

little munnies hopping around in the grasses

big munny by the juniper bushes

little munny running across the street

big munny ducking underneath the cedar fence

little munny hiding in the drainage pipe

as we turn the corner

to head back up the trail

the sun at our backs

casts my shadow long above the stroller

and i bend over you to look at you

to see your quiet watchful face

big munny

little munny

An Initial Proof of Maternal Calculus

every time 
in the night
especially the first few days
the first few weeks
the first few months
but even now 
still
19 months later
when one of sadie’s small mid-night cries
comes through the wall 
between the nursery and our bedroom
then delayed a second 
also through the nest cam monitor 
on the table by your side of the bed

the sound of her cry 
startles the arc of my heartbeat
and rolls me towards the sound
to see if there is anything i can 
if there is anything i should 
do

this is just one small fact 
one small instinctual fatherly reaction
but i have been developing this formula
ever since her first sounds 
interrupted themselves into our sleep

i take that measureable change in my pulse
and the angle of my eyelids opening 
as if to better hear her needs
and i add them together

and then i make the following modifications 
to exactly determine 
how exactly the reaction to the same sound
is different for you
is stronger for her mother

i multiply my value by the days 
you waited to be pregnant
the days we spent trying to make this tiny human
the minutes you spent at baby showers for your friends
who seemed to get pregnant seamlessly and immediately
and then 100 times points for the days
you carried our kicking baby inside your body

i add 5 to the value 
for each lovenox injection i gave you
in your belly 
every night for over nine months

25 for each injection of progesterone in oil
delivered with an 18 gauge needle 
into the sweet tenderness of your right butt cheek
but i do subtract 5 for the fact that i tenderly rubbed the injection site
as instructed
because i like to think you enjoyed that part

10 for each other required injection
and various indignities
and ultrasounds
and blood draws
and urine samples

30 for each contraction you had 
in the last trimester
and 50 for being able to keep the car on the road
in the middle of the worst that braxton hicks style
had to offer

i include the surface area of your small intestine
the surgeons worked through after the cesarean
to find the kink that Sadie had been yanking on
like a bus stop pull cord
to let you know she wanted out a couple of days early

i use as an exponent the minutes
you fed her from your body
latched and loaded in the nursery
and on the couch with the boppy

i add the times 
you reached across the bed to her nest 
and pulled her over for another nighttime meal
in the months before the nursery

i multiply the currently resulting value by a factor of 3
to account for the 3 big boxes of twin-bed-sized maxi-pads
you had to wear for weeks afterwards 
as Sadie’s old room cleaned itself out of your body

i add the ounces of sweet milk you created
with an extra factor of 5 for those you extracted with suction
with a machine 
at work
at lunchtime
in your office 

i put parentheses around all of the aforementioned items
and then cube that value 
simply because your heart
is that much larger
more capable
and that much more cubicly mooshy than mine

and it is at this point that i know
i could go on forever
adding each thing you did
so perfectly the day before
each day having something different 
to consider into the formula

i hope that the calculation
described it in this tender treatise
can encapsulate all of the future variables
and that i can leave it on its own
as a living proof
multiplying its result
in an eternally exponential cascade

so that now 
i can more completely focus 
on the three 
that we have made 
from two 

handful

when i wake you every morning
you demand something for your hands
you drag your furry pink blanket 
with you from the crib when i pick you up
then set it aside for a small bottle of peppermint oil
and some saline nose spray
from the shelf above your changing table

once you are dressed
you scoot down the hallway stairs
open the hall closet
reaching for your purple jacket 
and your furry polar bear hat
and then your pink knit hat too
and run to the front door
and turn back to me
to see when i am coming

i pause a moment to store this memory
like a parent does
the details overflowing my grasp
and then we go out the door together
hand in hand
adventuring out into the world