unfurling

 

you are folded inside myself
nesting boxes of tissue
you build fiercely
putting
                two eyes
ears
         hands
(heart)
              away for later

here where
chimneys huff steam
                               skyward
roofs invisible under
snow

you are growing
at an inexplicable rate



now when
you are still a part of me
not of me
but mine



I hear your voice in the
rhythms
                    of silence
of your future
of warm socks
and arms
              that enfold you entirely

I am a boxcar
                          a prophet
I have not envisioned
the word
                but I carry it
for you
and tomorrow