The news hits
and for a time there is
nothing.
You count the seconds
in your head.
One.
Two.
Three.
Her voice,
a dim crackle.
Tears well
excitement,
fear,
sadness
(sometimes a lot
sometimes a little)
As the world floods back
you are hit by
another realization:
You are not the only
person that matters.
The cycle repeats.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
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4 comments:
Sorry I'm late. I just think that the term pregnant pause is funny and it makes me think of the stereotypical panic that dudes get when they find out they're having a kid.
So this isn't autobiography of very recent events? Or are congratulations in order, sir?
The seconds counting is well presented, emphasizing the phenomenon of time slowing at this moment.
I also like the idea presented in the final stanza. It rings of truth when I look at my brother, who, after becoming of father, became far more compassionate and less obsessed with his own ambitions.
No man. I'm pretty sure that we're one and done. I appreciate the kind words.
The use of second person works well here. There is a sort off panic and a pause--and the second person has a story telling quality to that. You capture the truth about the ordeal as well as the mixed emotions.
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