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pjthompsonAmerican
I read poetry to him in my American voice,
my American language, and he listens
in French,
cast back against the pillows,
naked,
one knee bent up for intuitive leaps
eyes watching my face and inflection,
mouth smiling slightly, slightly open
as if his tongue might catch the words
so when he repeats them he, too,
will speak American.
©Pamela J. Thompson
I read poetry to him in my American voice,
my American language, and he listens
in French,
cast back against the pillows,
naked,
one knee bent up for intuitive leaps
eyes watching my face and inflection,
mouth smiling slightly, slightly open
as if his tongue might catch the words
so when he repeats them he, too,
will speak American.
©Pamela J. Thompson
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-21 02:55 am (UTC)