Martin's lines are a brief as breath, and cloister us at home, in winter, where the tiny everyday ministrations of love and parenthood are magnified and abundant with meaning. I wanted to tell you somethingAbout the shipwreckOf fatherhood, of motherhood, the coarseSugar leaving usShook. Soft wreck of the babyGreeting each kissWith an openAnd drooling mouth, reflexWe don't understandHeart-blip stuckTipping my fingerOn the keys, speedingMemory of yesterday outThe window I'mPushing barely openChris Martinis the author ofAmerican Music(Copper Canyon, 2007) andBecoming Weather(Coffee House Press, 2011). | The Falling Down Dance by Chris Martin, Paperback | Indigo Chapters