Taking him by the hand
Or-well-does he have a hand?
Taking him in the door
The large building
Seems so
Big
“Are movies great big
Beasts?” he asks
No, they are small
Hard to see
But then we are
At the ticket counter
And I pay for
1 child
1 adult
And he stands looking
“Are those the movies?” he
Says as I hand him
A ticket
No, they let us see
The movies. I paid to
Let us see the
Movies
“Are those new eyes?”
How can I explain
The strangeness of it-
Paying to use our eyes
Then, as I buy the
Popcorn, he asks
If they have
Haycorn,
No, they don’t
Why don’t you
Try some of mine
Now I convince
Him to hand in
His ticket, though
He thinks that
He can no longer
See the movie.
Down the long
Hallway he
Glances at the doors. I can
Almost feel him
Wanting to shrink,
Growing
Smaller
Smaller
Smaller
“Be Gallant,” I
Cry as
He is one
Step behind me
He is silent
No more strange
Questions as we
Sit in the seats
In the dark
We are early,
No commercials
Yet play
And the
Theater
Is quiet
I offer him some
Popcorn, as
I can see he
Is glancing around
Pressing closer to me
The popcorn, he says
Tastes like what the
Fluff from pooh’s head
Must be
Others come in
At every step
He jumps
Looking
In the dark
There must be
Many places that
Heffalumps and
Woozles may hide
And the
The screen lights with
Commercials I can ignore
And then
He stares
Taking it in
Saying nothing
Watching, enraptured
When the movie finally
Play he
Relaxes, feeling
The story,
Why I wasn’t
Able to explain this,
This great marvel
And when
It ends and
He walks
Dream-like
Behind me, clutching
His half of ticket,
Useless now
In the sunshine
He is happy
Would you like another?
I ask
“Yes” says he

Oh, Gallant Piglet