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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Where I Am

Since I can’t go back in time
and the future is a wall,
I go into the present,
the honeycomb of the now.
And pick dandelions with Jackie,
talk to Michael.
See the beginning of memories
welcoming a smile.

Here I am real,
looking for ants disappearing in the grass,
pushing the mobile above Michael’s crib.
Wondering in the quiet of our space,
what they will remember
of houses, lakes, faces,
things filling a room,
music that we hum and sing,
and Papa,
loving them forever.

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