skip to main |
skip to sidebar
"Can I read one?" Kaia asks with her head on my shoulder as I make my way through a collection of poems by Billy Collins. "Of course. Try this one." It felt like time stood still as we read together:
I want to carry you
and for you to carry me
the way voices are said to carry over water.
Just this morning on the shore,
I could hear two people talking quietly
in a rowboat on the far side of the lake.
They were talking about fishing,
then one changed the subject,
and, I swear, they began talking about you.
_________________________________________________________________________
She lets out a soft snort, like a laugh but not quiet. She looks up into my eyes. We smile. We both know, she gets it.