Trying to weave a couple of universals and a touch of mystery into a poem that needs more poetics--- I borrowed that word from Dennis--- also the line breaks seem odd. Please, any thoughts you may have regarding this piece. Thanks, Dewell.
TELL ME A STORY
Tell me a story, Daddy.
Tell me a story about me when I was little.
You know, when Mommy birthed me.
And and you wrapped me
In the little yellow blanket
All warm and snuggly
And you gave me to Mommy
And everybody smiled.
You said I was no bigger
Than your hand...
Which hand, Daddy?
Show me. Did I cry like
They say babies do at birthing?
Was everybody happy? Clapping?
Saying good things about me?
Did you count my fingers and toes?
Did I have Mommy's button nose?
Did I wrap my hand around your pinkie? Tight?
Please, Daddy, tell me my
Special story again
While we wait for the Midwife.
-Dewell H. Byrd
TELL ME A STORY
Tell me a story, Daddy.
Tell me a story about me when I was little.
You know, when Mommy birthed me.
And and you wrapped me
In the little yellow blanket
All warm and snuggly
And you gave me to Mommy
And everybody smiled.
You said I was no bigger
Than your hand...
Which hand, Daddy?
Show me. Did I cry like
They say babies do at birthing?
Was everybody happy? Clapping?
Saying good things about me?
Did you count my fingers and toes?
Did I have Mommy's button nose?
Did I wrap my hand around your pinkie? Tight?
Please, Daddy, tell me my
Special story again
While we wait for the Midwife.
-Dewell H. Byrd