Synecdoche
So much of her voice is in me,
It’s like our family is a real living organism,
Each appendage is one of us,
Me, my wife, my son, and my daughter.
She smiles even when she’s sick.
Ever-courageous, she tumbles through the threshold,
Shoes on the wrong feet, bottle in hand,
A shriek of joy silences the masses.
She asks for more milk to drink than she can handle,
Ever-doubtful, she mistrusts even herself,
But I’ve seen her climb up into her car seat
As if it were her Everest.
I let her fall a little,
So, she practices how to get back up.
I think what people mean when they say to learn to get back up
Is you should learn how to fall first without it breaking you.
Alexander P. Garza is a writer, actor, and educator from Houston, TX. His work can be seen in Nine Muses Poetry(forthcoming), Magnolia Review (forthcoming), Little Rose Magazine (forthcoming), Ariel Chart, Literal Magazine, and Broadway World Houston. He has worked on and offstage at The Alley Theatre, Houston Grand Opera, Main Street Theater, and Mildred’s Umbrella Theatre Company. Visit him on Instagram/Twitter, @alexanderpgarza, and on his website http://www.alexanderpgarza.com.
I really like this one–those last two lines!
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Thank you, MerrilDSmith!
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