Remember When You Have A Son

remember when you have a son nothing is erased
words get stamped upon the letters that will fall from his full grown mouth
that the window he sits before is curtained by the canvas colored humming of your stare or gentle smile
your push or hold, grace or rain
his language slurred by the reflections of campfire ashes in your eyes or the hallway light shadows underneath his bedroom door

and remember before his sketch is colored it was exactly as you would please
that you built and pulled the curtain from his quiet stage
and know you are his audience
and that an artist is not to be believed when they insist their work is simply for themselves

know that he goes falling in life, held by the parachute built by your wrinkling hands landing in the same feathered arms that surely must catch us all

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