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August 2, 2008
When my son wakes up

the whole house is changed

the numbness of blue midnight

the hallway filled with stillness

his small voice bends the wall

and we wake for him

for a moment

I consider the lesson

“can he make it on his own?”

“should he learn this simple truth?”

“ should I go to him?”

at this moment

in the incalculable depths

of “right thinking,”

I remember the beating

of my own heart

the callous rush of emotion

the lesson is not mine to teach

the truth’s waiting,

restless and snoring in tiny

quick breaths

across my hall.