
What not to say
is: I held you when you were a baby, the smallest particle in my universe; how we define sums and multiples or fractions and division are the genesis of tears. Lesson: if you see a dying man never ask him Why, nor tell him there is no answer, nor how folding the sleeves of your shirt across the back made me want to lift you again and again from the floor. What not to say is: In this moment, I believe in you, the way the lessons of your trumpet believe in the day you will call them all, one by one, into Taps. Belief is unspeakable the way holding you was when you were asleep.
1 reply on “What not to say”
An exquisite poem by Gregory Stapp! The wisdom, scope, and music of “What Not to Say” dissolve into this reader in a lasting satisfaction.
Thank you, Literary Mama for bringing some of the best poetry to your Twitter audience!