For Austin



You brilliant little one


Your big, brown eyes

And your tangled eyelashes


Your small, chapped mouth

And your laugh that’s larger than the whole world


Your growth cannot only be measured in inches


Sometimes, I cannot fathom the industry

We are all in


The industry where I have work,

And when I get to play,

I play far away from you


And my play can be measured in inches


I wish that we had endless days to play on the swings


Because the more I think of your life,

The more my mouth tastes like pennies


My surroundings start to look like pennies too,

And although everything is still shiny, it is the same color,

And bitter, and small.


Because the longer I look at the trees, the ones that are now responsible for my breath, joy, shelter,

The more I remember our Mother.


And the more I remember that you have less of her


This poem is about: 
My family


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