I am wordless bound.
What is a poem,
floating through space?
I’ve begun thinking
is not a fluke –
the body figured out
how to think about itself.
We really do have the power
what’s right in front of us. The mind
Truth be told, we wanted a girl.
I thought I could curtail the space
for that, grab hold of the furniture, society. You’ve
set it loose. I’m so self-aware
I can’t hear a thing;
just the grass
my own mortality. The arm’s length
of time, in each banal task, speaking stars, on this mote
suspended in a sunbeam.
My son, since
we are astronauts.