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