What Can You Teach Me, Francis?
What can you teach me, Francis? My dusty, neglected books say nothing. Philosophy, language, music, quotes, Knot tying, origami folding Birds, fairies and…old journals. You! Play, eat, make music. Fight sleep, fall into hugs and love. You! Scooch toward specks on the wooden floor. Investigate, measure, Fill up with all that’s around you. You! Abruptly take me back on my heels with question and wonder. What are you here to tell me? I’m wise and old. You beg me to let go of all I know. To reach and toss and turn what is in front of me. You! Smile with curiosity, genuineness and charm. Your hands turn, poke and push things over. What did I miss, Francis? Curiosity? Songs without words? Love without expectations? Should I test gravity with my body? Are my food and everyday objects, Worth a relook? A retouch? The shadows on the wall move and play. I watch you smile and try to stop one. My heart leaps a t the moment. You! When you rock yourself to sleep or unsleep. You watch me t