Sunday, March 15, 2009

Evening Poem #72

You found it both sweet and fearful
the way she explained objective
pronoun usage to her two-year-
old. Sweet, because the preposition
in question was between. Fearful
he would assume it always
would be. The look on her
face, the one that says, if
I teach my child one thing,
and that she thought the pronoun
lesson worthy of that oneness.
The other boy racing ahead,
flopping the soles of his
feet, the part of him
between the sky and me.
Our liminal bliss, the car
parked, and he ran right
past it. The him of birds
taking flight across the way.

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