nigh nigh

i like to hold my little girl
her name is scarlett houston
and sing to her at night
and feel her head grow heavy
and press into my chest
and her sweet and tiny fingers
pinch the fabric of my tshirt sleeve
and she holds on to her daddy
and says ‘bubbles’
or ‘nigh nigh’
at descending levels of volume
until i shush my singing
and say to her i love you
and she knows now is goodnight
and leans from my arms
over her crib and i lower her down
and she collects her blanket and her fox
and her bunny and her thoughts
and says ‘nigh nigh’ again.

as he trots through clover

the fox slumped in a halfhearted semicircle of patchy fur
once blazing red now limp orange juxtaposed with exposed pink skin.
he gummed at his paws, teeth long since lost in the woods.

the sun came and went day and night.
he kept himself well shaded beneath the earth
and his eyes adjusted to see the dark.

he forgot how to run and hunt.

he did not, however, forget hunger
and she urged him to the surface.

clover parted ‘round him
and he laughed to himself
picturing this broken fox as royalty

and the scent caught him
eyes narrowed and body taut        how did this happen where has this been
a coiled spring to explode             he has teeth again his mouth is bleeding
blood and life and the miracle       bursting through his gums, sharp, white
of instinct                                        his fur blazing red again in the sun
that cannot be forgotten.               a rabbit snapped between his jaws
       hi                                                 as he trots through clover.

wingspan of a fox

today was a hard day, darling.

your daddy did many things

and isn’t entirely sure if he did

any

of those things as well as he could

or should because

well how on earth do we measure such things

anyway

sometimes your daddy feels as if

all he can do is walk into walls while

a door stands open how on earth did he miss it

and

today, goodness, today was one of those days

lots of up close and personal with drywall

and maybe you noticed because on your way

out of a door you turned to daddy who was on the floor

gathering our legos and you

waltzed in zipped pink cowgirl boots

plunged through scattered remnants of a plastic tower

and flung tiny arms as wide as could be

and i decided to measure this day

in the wingspan of a fox

and her grip around my neck.

today was a great day, darling.

i love you,

daddy

haikuesday

we had a baby

which is pretty cool i guess

her name is scarlett

* * * 

government shutdown,

lemme speak now what i think;

y’all are furlough s***

* * *

’tis most ironic

i so large and you so small

how you keep me safe