you would read to your son
before he'd go to sleep.
book after book.
in time, you stopped
reading and made
up stories that he could
be a part of.
adventures he could
be in.
each night a different
tale to wet
his appetite for dreams.
one more, he'd say, one more.
and now as he stands
on a stage, or
faces a camera,
rehearsing his lines,
you wonder if he remembers
his father, sitting at
his bedside, making
the world up in stories
before he went to sleep.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
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