A faded dispatch from 1981,
secrets hidden in the stillness of the dark.
Falling asleep on my father’s chest,
The light of the television spreading onto the walls.
There, the shadows take hold.
My father asleep again,
I awaken to images that don’t make sense,
A time and a shadow lost inside of a screen.
His sonorous breathing shatters the silence,
My toys casting threatening glares.
When will we venture outside again?
The dark and cold threatening to ruin a dream.
I drift off amid the static.
Briefly awake, my father lifting me up,
Out into the cold as he lays me down
In the creche of the backseat.
The roar of an engine and passing street lights,
A strange heaven where nobody sleeps.
The night and quiet hum of the car.
We pick up my mother,
A flash of a smile through my half-closed eyes.
We journey home,
The silence and the black screen,
No more static, no more mystery.
I drift off again.
The hum of the night and the shadows fade,
into a dream of architecting new tomorrows.