Birth

This is
the rush of days in fast forward,
a soundless churn of steam on the kettle,
the sun snared in a mobile making kaleidoscopes on the upstairs wall,
sweat on torn slippers racing up the banister,
the roots of sermons and night confessions piercing through a white plastic monitor,
excitement of chatter over morning newspapers with coffee rings staining the dictator’s face,
steam in clouds hiding Sunday from the mirror,
circle of bloodlines mixed race in the morning pressing frail hands to ancestors’ fingers,
the moon on the mobile through an alabaster window turning stars into mystic ships and tiny men,
invisible telephones ringing unanswered,
the fierce faces of lions and tigers stuffed and tamed on the bedroom shelf,
fire trucks on the floor without sirens,
tableau of mother father and child in a crooked living room through frayed tree branches,
trinity of soldiers gazing at the dawn burning circles on winter driveways,
everyone steadfast too strong to fall.

*First published in College Town (Tebot Bach, 2010)

Michael Miller is the co-founder of Moon Tide Press, the author of five books of poetry, and a former entertainment and community news journalist for the Los Angeles Times. He currently teaches English and coordinates the visiting-author program at St. Cyril of Jerusalem School in Encino, California. You may read more about him and visit his blog at www.michaelmillerpoet.com.