to be a dad
is to know when to cry
with your child

when there’s not enough knowledge or
experience or
patience to get
you through
and all you can really do
is hold on
to the wiggling, screaming
crying child you love
who for unknowable reasons
is inconsolable
at this difficult hour

lost somewhere between
sleep and waking,
eyes closed
but seeping

letting go, giving in
sharing in the frustration
which comes when two people
in love don’t speak
the same language

emotional overload
plays softly
in the twilit background
on a radio tuned
to a frequency which during
daylight brings
only static

filtered through tears
and baby sweat of struggle
hot on my bare chest
i hear a familiar song playing
through all this unfamiliar confusion
and though i’ve heard only pieces played
before, i know the words and begin
singing along and
each verse brings
lengthening to jagged
breaths which suddenly settle
into a calm rhythm,
a cheek pressed
against collar bone
followed by a snore

Reach out and touch someone....

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