Pieces

Pieces

Pieces, blocks
Zoob things.
Cars. Rubber ducks.
Cards. Pictures.
Alphabet. Numbers.
Grouped color by color
Or by height and size.
Placed in just the
Right position
And looking at them in
A sideways glance
Or staring at them
With an enthusiastic
Excited hand flap
Reveling and lingering
in his happy
Peaceful place
Until it comes
Without warning
Because of a mere
change of the direction
Of the wind
Or sound of the first drops
Of rain
Never mind the thunder
Resonating in the sky
But mind the roar
Of that heart
That tells
Here it comes.
Brace yourself.
And in a split
Second before
I can,
They all come
flying off--
Blocks. Zoob things.
Cars. Rubber ducks.
Cards. Pictures.
Alphabet. Numbers.
Chairs.
Then some, Tables.
Tears. Shrieks.
Kicks. Slaps.
Pinches,
Then some, Punches

Glares
Of why do I
do this?
And the last to
fly off are the
Pieces.
My heart.
Crumbling
Piece by piece
Falling down
On the colored
Rubber mats
Pick it up.
Pick it all up
As calmly
As I could
I ask him.
Blocks. Zoob things.
Cars. Rubber ducks.
Cards. Pictures.
Alphabet. Numbers.
Chairs.
And in tears
Hands curled
In a tight
Fist.
He did.
Piece by piece
My, Little, Prince
Mama, loves, you.
He sits down
Quiet.
His eyes searching
And searching
For answers
Or for me
Maybe.
Both our throats
voiceless dry.
I have no
answers
But this--
Every piece
of my heart.