The Falling Down Dance

Martin’s lines are a brief as breath, and cloister us at home, in winter, where the tiny everyday ministrations of love and parenthood are magnified and abundant with meaning.

I wanted to tell you something About the shipwreck Of fatherhood, of motherhood, the coarse Sugar leaving us Shook. Soft wreck of the baby Greeting each kiss With an open And drooling mouth, reflex We don’t understand Heart-blip stuck Tipping my finger On the keys, speeding Memory of yesterday out The window I’m Pushing barely open

Chris Martin is the author of American Music (Copper Canyon, 2007) and Becoming Weather (Coffee House Press, 2011).