Poem #6 for National Poetry Month. A hard night tonight with the boy as he didn't want to go to bed.

Storm Boy

As deep cries to deep

I hear those anguished groans

Not in your words so much

As you flap, trying to erase the hurt

Or uncomfortableness or invisible irritant

A monster staring you down, but we don’t see it

We see you beating and bleating at the wind

Flying as breath escapes in big gulps

Hardly returning to your ready gasping lungs

As you lunge at the invisible beast nipping at your heels

I pull you in to comfort only to be thrust across the room

Your father then coming in as second string

Relieves my feeble boxing to meet your match

He weaves, dodges, and doesn’t touch you yet you howl as if beating him would be trodding the monster down under your heel, grinding it into the earth

We plead, you sob, we reason, you counter with a logic that I’m sure makes sense to you

In this petulant pelting flight from the dark evil thing’s cave

Exhaustion has now harnessed himself to your back driving you further and further from your bed, our home, and reason

We capture you, cornered you fight with every last ounce of energy but like a drained battery you slow down now only fueling your watery protest and vocal vibrancies of violence

You allow me to hold you as you turn your body upward like a baby in my arms though you are nearly eight years on this earth now

Your long limbs filling my short torso and then overflowing onto the coach and still you speak slower

until your father teases a tear forth not meaning to as he was fishing for your radiant smile

The monster teases you into fits and starts as we slowly wind you into the routine of night and bed

To protect you and slay the creature, we lay down with you in the dark answering all questions and whispering prayers of peace