I hear the running water
the shower of my daughter
and I smile -
I do not hear my son
too far away - in body - in spirit.
Yet inside my wired brain cells
a very vivid picture
of him cuddling his own son
robustly remains.
My other son floats in and out
like a catterpillar readying
to fly, where will he go?
Good thoughts pouring out
intercepted by the drumming.
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