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Joshua Keiter

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  • Milestones

    I now know that time
    does not move
    in the same way
    without a difference
    
    for instance
    at the checkup
    while you reach each
    milestone at a year
    
    such as eating things
    by yourself and pulling 
    to stand with
    a helping hand
    
    how can I be sure 
    I myself have not
    passed by some
    demarcation designated
    
    by the fullness of 
    my belly after crawling 
    to chase you down
    the hallway out of breath
    
    does that song still mean
    as much now as it did then?
    how many more will pass
    before you get to know them?
    
    do the years spent
    in limbo without any trace
    of your premonition
    still feel as desperate?
    
    in fact yes they do
    witness these bread crumbs
    I continue to brush
    off my sleeve out of rest
    
    the dishes that need solving
    each evening after repast
    how is it that you have
    some idea of a spoon?
    
    why do I hold mine
    with such messy assurance
    as if I have some gift
    imparted by the passing hours
    
    turned into years
    I had no idea were mine
    even as I gave them away
    to wherever time goes
    
    these morsels you grasp
    so easily now in your hand
    sometimes they reach your mouth
    if not they are caught
    
    by grace in a bib above your lap
    May 12, 2023
    DadPoem, Parenting, Poetry

  • Year One

    A bit surprised by how intensely
    the memories come flooding back—
    is this why some stay the same
    age you were when you met them?

    The brilliance of sun today resembling
    the euphoria of the drive home
    after days in the hospital whose hours
    remain somewhat unaccounted for

    What did we do when we what did we eat
    in those hours when breaths were new
    and awkward cries holding your held
    atoms radically assembled into grateful arms

    Today as the rest of the world wore
    unnecessarily fancy hats you tumbled toward
    the iPad turning over to see the other side
    such familiar faces facing your brightness

    Surely they must be there in the flesh
    magnetically attached to these radiant absences
    how used to living you must be this longest
    first year we could not imagine what we did

    Where we went who we were going to be
    before you suddenly appeared on the other side
    May 6, 2023
    DadPoem, Parenting, Poetry

  • Brown Bear

    By the last page 
    pointing to each figure
    she holds my finger

    directs it out of order
    to hear the sound
    images again

    I wonder what she sees
    my hand or her own
    repeating syllables

    familiar yet different
    signified by shapes
    line and color

    associated with world
    somewhere beyond
    the page within reach
    May 1, 2023
    DadPoem, Parenting, Poetry, Storytime

  • Transitive Property

    Appropriate to arrive 
    at a lack of words
    to describe the child

    speaking every syllable
    in existence
    at the presence of

    faces on a screen
    namely those who spoke
    her life into being

    the transitive property
    of words before
    coalescing into

    definite statements
    pass through this gate
    of babbling

    for the sake of all
    consonants and vowels
    to inhabit her activity

    knowing all unspoken
    will find their voice
    in the course of time

    the child is still getting used to
    April 30, 2023
    DadPoem, NaPoWriMo, Poetry

  • Proofing

    The worry is that some worry
    whether they are ready to have a child—

    the problem is that that is nothing
    to worry about the problem comes

    when you realize you aren’t ready
    for them to wake up from a nap

    one day and suddenly bound across
    rooms and hallways stretching for

    any object living or stationary
    without regard for decorum or

    the probability of physical limitation
    anything within sight is apparently

    within reach and why not since
    you can only be afraid of what

    you cannot see—remember
    when they were an ultrasonic pattern

    on a printout did we really expect
    the tables to be overturned? In fact we did
    April 29, 2023
    DadPoem, NaPoWriMo, Parenting, Poetry

  • At the Library Book Sale

    Carried the child around 
    the library book sale

    while she craned her neck
    to view the light fixtures

    overhead fixated as it were
    on the origin of illumination

    while the spines which she
    turns so delicately in her hands

    after story time ends a result
    of fatigue heavying eyelids

    below strained into a blur
    of books we might never get

    around to reading how to
    explain what captures

    the radiance of her eyes
    but this fluorescence

    somewhat distorting
    our limited perception

    not all words enter our vision
    but if we let the light in

    we might know what life
    brings us here to witness

    the stuff all words we see
    hear our made of
    April 28, 2023
    NaPoWriMo, Poetry

  • Clear

    Space extends indefinitely
    in between rooms
    from one point
    to another
    then back
    again
    what else
    could sustain
    forward motion
    resistance of floor
    to a babbling of limbs
    finding infinity restless
    just another room
    to explore
    April 27, 2023
    NaPoWriMo, Poetry

  • Cat Sitters

    The more the child wishes
    to pet the cats
    the more perversely

    they seem to accept it
    as if their presence
    by our side as soon as

    the child goes to bed
    were not evidence enough
    they need to process

    the sheer exuberance
    this cat shaped creature
    brings to their existence

    for instance one of them
    meows every night
    with a mousie at her door

    to wish her off to sleep
    perhaps to take over
    the house now that she

    seems to own the place
    witness how she cannot
    sit still without reaching

    for some other glint
    of light illuminating
    the fur that collects

    in the carpet she cannot
    keep herself from crawling
    how much is she picking up

    from these fur babies
    receptive to touch
    however flailing about

    the novelty of a tail
    attached to a creature
    turning over at the joy

    of another living being
    April 26, 2023
    Cats, FurBabies, NaPoWriMo, Parenting, Poetry

  • Pull to Stand

    Watching someone attempt 
    to do something
    for the first time

    knowing it may be possible
    a leap into mirror unknown
    reaching for the attainable

    in a hopefully safe environment
    nevertheless with
    swathes of saliva

    on mesh or fragile plastic
    guiding the way
    tells me everything about

    instinct and tenacity
    resilience and strength
    growth and stamina

    I could ever hope to know
    in a shining tiny human
    it also in no uncertain terms

    really freaks me out
    April 25, 2023
    DadPoem, NaPoWriMo, Parenting, Poetry

  • Okay Chorale

    Today was the day we situated 
    the play yard around the living space
    which the child decided was ripe
    for launching legs and limbs in rapid
    articulation from edge to edge
    past the barrier to the forbidden
    bare floor zone leading to the precipice
    of the stairway and the kitchen
    after some deliberation I decided
    it was not appropriate to call it
    a play yard perhaps more of an okay
    corral it will make do for a child
    who suddenly is unsatisfied with place
    which she would replace with motion
    how unlike I think as I stand in
    the kitchen washing dishes scraping
    bits of food she should not eat yet
    I pause sobbing into the suds thinking
    of the moments almost a year ago
    when for thirty hours she deigned
    an interregnum of motion having
    determined the spot in which she had
    been placed for nine months or so
    perfectly suited to her situation
    it was decided it was time for her
    to arrive however without her immediate
    consent I sat in the hallway helpless
    not that I would have much to do
    in either case in my fabric footies
    and impromptu antiseptic attire
    having no idea if she if she would be
    okay if any of us would be okay
    if this world she so boundlessly springs
    forth into having no idea of her
    destination will be okay all I can do
    is wipe the rinse away and place
    the dishes in their appropriated places
    and collect my thoughts hoping
    this space will be okay we will be okay
    we will all be okay
    April 24, 2023
    DadPoem, NaPoWriMo, Parenting, Poetry

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