What do I Say

What do I say
to the four year old
who wants to know

Why? His eyes shining
like an Oracle who
owns the Truth. Do I
tell him the world is full
of families rejecting
little brown baby

bundles of joy? That
love is often smaller
than hate and is pain-
ful in the long hours
of the night? Some-
one began judging him

when he was inches long,
someone was biased
from birth, his birth;
before he was officially
ours, those moments
when all I could think of
was, “Breathe Breathe Breathe.”

I never thought I would
trade one family member
for another, but as far
as I’m concerned, I traded up.
What do I say? I say the Stars
and the Moon, the Merry-Go-Rounds
of Sunflowers. I say fat pink

Earthworms and Books Books Books.
I say Tomorrow and Always, I say Stay
Near and Hold Tight.

I say Breathe Breathe
Breathe to him, to us.