listen

listen uncle

the plant

above your head

knows you better

than your hair do

and though i am small

in your hands

your hands know

each other

better than your mouth

knows what

to say

and mama

the gold you wear

is delicate

and light

it cannot break you

you will break

through it

and

i love you beyond the strength of your hands

i love you more than the glint of your rings

i love you beyond what i can see in blurry daylight

i love you more than anything

and i remember

(I love that in this picture I look like I am making a considered response to something my Uncle Duane is saying. What would that be? The poem imagines it. Ultimately everything becomes I love you. And I am still held in the loose prayer of my uncle’s hands and my mama’s hands in this photo. May we consider our words at this time. May they all be words of love. May we remember that we are all babies, new to this moment without the language to truly hold it. May we remember what this baby knew, we can’t live without each other. Love to each of you and all of us. )