In the dark in my bed
too late for a full night’s rest
my nine year old son
confessed quietly, brightly:
tomato and potato
have always confused me
but now I see their beginnings
are cousins
and their endings
are twins.
I woke up in the morning’s dark
knowing this is true for all
our beginnings and ends
and touched his sleeping head.
2012
I dreamed about this poem all night.
All of us growing up.
Becoming each other’s kin.
And like Benjamin Button,
Blinking out into the morning.