While doing some spring cleaning, I came upon some creative writing from when my son was very young. The below poem was written when Vaughn was six weeks old. Deprived of sleep, I was nonetheless basking in the pure physicality of a newborn son. In reflection, I can see some of the influence of Walt Whitman and Sylvia Plath on my writing.
You rent my heart asunder
And whatever you will assume, I shall assume
In all your stars I lose to your touch, only myself
And to your voice, illegible
Shrunk in your shadow
Surrendering to your unknowable
You stand before me a tower
Your stars, your crown, they deafened me,
Sunk me with the power of your immensity
Which, finger to closed finger, open me up
Until such time again where
You will rent my heart asunder
