Soon, or maybe not so soon,
I will get on a plane to see
my parents, daughter firmly in tow,
flying to the other side of the world.
But as I put my boy to sleep,
eyes closed, gnawing on a paci,
little hand resting on my chest,
I think I will miss this.

Will he forget this routine while I’m gone
or be mad at our interruption
or my demand to restart again?
But here is our tether,
little gloved hand against my shirt,
the thin line of our touch.
Can it cover half the world?
I wish I knew before I’ll find out.

Daryl Muranaka lives in Boston with his family. In his spare time, he enjoys aikido and taijiquan and exploring his children’s dual heritages. His first book, Hanami, was released by Aldrich Press in April 2015.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.