Disinterested in the service
she used to sit mesmerized
mostly at the lights streaming
specifically at her face
she might be getting hesitant
to share a space with so many
others there to partake in
a meal and communion together
she runs to the nursery where
covetous of donated toys
she insists on bringing home
from time to time she eats
a pickle and chocolate chip
cookie asking for another
we have to go back to
the dining room I say
suddenly uninhibited by shyness
she runs for the second cookie
and finds her mother to sit
by her side just in time for
prayer she knows to place
her hands together not just
in thanks or saying grace
not even to imitate these faces
bowed with closed eyes I know
she keeps her eyes open
repeating most of the words
to the prayer we haven’t even
specifically taught her to know
I remember being the shyness
of her age myself somehow
I don’t remember this openness
that makes me realize this ritual
probably does not come from
without or even a mirror of
what we think we should obey
there is a sweetness and we seem
to know where it comes from
we run to the room and our
bodies know how to do the rest
Tag: NaPoWriMo
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Host
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Speech
These days our child in the other room
wakes before we do speaking aloud
a silly dialogue from a silly song
some phrases she is familiar with
like “stop the music” or “I can dance”
or “say peas” but others must be
purely phonic I doubt she understands
the full implications of “polka party”
or “I’ll show you no comprendo”
but she has them all memorized and
her articulation is immaculate
as we groggily smile ourselves awake
wondering what she’s on about
We may be relying on stories and songs
from other media to fill the hours
on days relenting in their emptiness
she learns so much even from our
knowing embrace of conscious choices
echoing throughout the house
One day I’ll let her know today
I was distracted paying attention to phrases
that should be committed to memory
extemporized into history
25 hours of words making good trouble
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The Wheels on the Bus
Now you sing along
even to songs
we don’t sing very much
I forgot about the book
of unknown
origin on the shelf
hand me down or thrift
store makes no
difference you understand
a song so singalongable
the wheels never
not go round and round
you raise your hands
at the close of
every verse punctuating
your own singing with
gestures of
exclamation making
easy the decision to
start over
again from the beginning
another chance to make
with your limbs
echoing your voice
your own refrain
your song
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At Lunch Today
While recording the world’s most hilarious
video of a toddler at their highchair
in the known universe I marveled at
the facial recognition software pre installed
that allowed us to volley wow faces
and giggles in an ad hoc infinite
loop that might have gone on forever you
didn’t even abruptly announce all done
we traded grimaces side eyes smiles and oohs
like we invented them no idea what prompted
such an improvisatory outpouring of emotion
must have just been in the mood to let it out
all the mirror exercises peek a boomerang
toomerang soomerang all laugh & laugh again
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Afternoon Dream
Thrift store full of
increasingly upscale
guitars and equipment
my mind spends
the bulk of my nap
trying to assemble
bells and wires that
have come unattached
when hung up the string
resembles numbers
from zero to nine
even in my dreams
I’m unpacking toys
from folded boxes
molded plastic
and wires not made
for fingers to untie
the child puts two
and two together
unwinds the screw
except gets upset
to see them apart
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Folks in Town
When the folks arrive
in more than two dimensions
now here in person
you repeat it all
eager to sit and read books
five word sentences
come out of your mouth
like they are second nature
what skills you have learned
since last you saw them
ready for anything you
grow before our eyes
we sit back and laugh
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Ice Cream Truck Haiku
Ice cream truck music
ringing through the neighborhood
is heard but unseen
Child is excited—
why? she has never seen one
could be the concept
of two awesome things
pasted and phrased together
prompts a trip outside
I see where it is
still within walking distance—
friends at the playground
instead—why not play
dragging a tractor around
within her control
the truck drives away
missing out on a few sales—
neighborhood moves on
plastic cone in the sandbox
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Undeterred
by the noise of mowers
just as I opened the windows
you keep all your plans for the day
intact and take an early nap
Joshua Keiter 