Silver-white tendrils frame the toddler face
of my son as he rests against my side.
The ceiling fan hums in the rhythmic pace
of its pattern. He's listening, eyes wide
in ponder as I speak letters into
the words of his favorite fable. Pressing
one soft finger to his pink lips, a new
look of wonder fills his face. Then he leans
in and whispers, "Hey! Am I the only
one who hears those drums?" Yet the room is still.
I listen closely for the sound of the
pum-pum-pum, wondering if it is real.
He angles an ear towards the left-his heart.
A smile spreads quickly. "Oh! There they are!"