DaNae Maria said she took
time coming into this world
because she wanted to listen
to the beat of my heart,
as if it were the strum of
a mountain dulcimer.
Nikolas Jesus, self-proclaimed
master of his own destiny,
carved down my tunnel
like a clawhammer banjo—
fingers flying in
an intricate harmony.
DaNae Maria, like a song,
a joyful jig
on a star struck eve,
the beginning of a smile,
a graceful waltz,
a miracle of dance.
Niko Jesus, blue eyes blazing,
a painted stallion,
the beat of his heart,
thumping wild like a Bodhran.
His wicked wit
a miracle of laughter.
DaNae Maria continues to take her time,
like a slow guitar rift,
while Nikolas Jesus, forever faster
like the pounding of a snare drum
ejected out of our lives.
A seatbelt would have saved him.
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