from the second floor, leaning over the banister

How many times
did I stand
at the top
of those stairs,
listening to one-sided
phone conversations,
trying to assign
names and faces to pronouns
to determine a subject:
someone I knew? or, better yet, me?
Eavesdropping on secrets,
confessions, predictions- most of them riddles,
but sometimes a name or a phrase would stand out
and my rapt little ears would
savor, devour, chew
and consider and store it away. This is
a reminder to self of how easily
words can tear holes
in the fabric of love
and to expand the definition
of improvisation
to include ‘to parent’
as a common synonym.

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2 thoughts on “from the second floor, leaning over the banister

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