A month early, Noah arrived
5lbs. 6 oz. but testing out of the NICU.
He is a tiny man, and like all men,
rages when his stomach pains,
skin transmuting from ivory translucence
to hot magenta in seconds − so small
the circulating volume of his blood.
Noah’s like that Hoplolatilus tilefish
on the internet that turns from blue
to gold and back again in less than a blink −
But mostly he is at peace, forehead wrinkled
like a sandalwood souvenir Buddha
from Tibet − helping me misplace
everything but this very instant.
