poet, interviewer, musician, traveler
For Henry Grimes
Henry sits
in a plastic chair on
the balcony,
drinking water and watching
the lake.
Below the surface,
roiling motion.
Outside,
reflected sky.
Henry waits
to be surprised,
never knowing where
this note — here —
will take him.
Sometimes
he doesn’t find his way back
for a long time.
Henry talks
with his hands,
plucking and bowing his message,
going to the ritual and
inviting all to follow.
Jen and the boys and I are in Saratoga Springs after a week in Lake Placid. While we were on vacation, I scribbled this poem about being a dad.
Fatherhood
Guardian of sleep
Protector of winter dreams
Chronicler of snow stories
Teller of bedtime tales
Snuggler on winter nights
Hugger with gentle arms
Gazer of wistful looks
Namer of newborn boys
Holder of tiny hands
Crosser of busy streets
Dreamer of far-off scenes
Kisser of sleeping limbs
Singer of simple songs
Soother of nighttime cries
Carrier of tired limbs
Father of children.
29 Dec 2007
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