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Baby Montezuma |
The picture captured that distant day
seethes, contentment at play
in me, your new and only father,
surrounding you with both arms, bright
legs and a tired smile glimmering
all the while I squeeze
disenchantment from you, my too
lonely child, my
son – no sunny joy ever to
cloud that day for this baby
Montezuma . . .
As it turns out, Nicolas,
Baby Montezuma
is a name I much admire
too much, though your eyes breathe
the color of a darkening soul
seething
at the ruin of ancient Mexico. So
I refrain from revealing this
glare-stoking gem to you
for now, my Prince
of Glowering, your tiny kingdom
town offering one lone driveway
for sanctuary, safe for scurrying,
scurrying, scurrying up only to glide
back down, down, down to a royal
stop on your Razor
two-wheel scooter, fix on me
the darkness of an angry
sharpshooter who missed
yet grins, This time
I choose to let you go, and maybe
it’s best for you I don’t try again
while we grow
copyright 2004
James
Keane |
