pitter/patter

(for a.g., you & yours)

the night is silver in its silence

moon-pop echoes of the day

raked up rubble of the hours spent

my, the children slumber

a thousand tomorrows bubbling at their lips

the dream projections lighting up

the clouds’ ample cotton                    relish the silence

as you’ll relish tomorrow

and the honesty of such raucous noise, thick

child feet of our unfeathered breasts, beasts we cherish

hallway run, sprints to smash the mash of food

tumbling, rolling right into these arms

charmed in their amnesia regarding where one

begins or ends

reminding us of the joy

of first step and the storm after the holler:

mama see, mama watch

pitter/patter

                     pitter/patter

thunder on a hardwood, heartbeat

this sole and counted rhythm

every generation a temporal fugitive

running from the death grip

every death ship’s watch, yesterdays

we weren’t meant to make it through

relish the memory ingrained in the sound

how these tiny, tiny feet

grip the floor, say

tomorrow, tomorrow

I make you

tomorrow

Credit

Copyright © 2019 by heidi andrea restrepo rhodes. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 21, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem

“In conversation with dear fellow poets, I found myself working to name a future-to-come that children represent as a kind of escape from the death-bound trajectories that remain integral to settler colonial temporal regimes. This poem considers how the everyday sound of young children awake and alive in their day is also the sound of generations not only having survived, but of future world-building possibility. If to be subjugated as racialized and queer bodies is an imposed/intended condition of "no-future,” the minuscule and fleeting joys of young bodies in becoming and flight, stumbling across a living room into the loving arms of family, whether blood or built, is no small thing: a moment teeming with so many possible futures, alive and brimming over.”

—heidi andrea restrepo rhodes