my dad read aloud to us nightly

the phantom tollbooth, mysterious benedict society, hugo cabret

20 years later when my wife was first expecting

i felt that child’s voice like pools of echoes, singing:

“dad, just one more chapter, please?”

while these stories are for her (our daughter)

they’re also for fathers who rend kids asleep dreaming

i hope my own knows how much those evenings still mean to me