Paper Pond

This crinkly roll of paper Benji clutched crunched louder than the bite in a KitKat commercial 

I could hear it from across the room 

In his little hand, breathing with the bounce of his steps

He unrolled the preschool art work

Blue 

Everything was blue 

But concentrated in the middle 

A paper pond with water soluble depth 

It resisted any dimension less than three

It kept rolling back up

So we pinned it down under a fort chair

In front of what I told them was our porch but I’m not sure city kids under 5 years old  know what a porch is

We dove into the paint stroke pond together 

All three of us

Fish that weren’t afraid because no predators were pencilled in 

Just water 

All water

For the rest of the night the two year old baby was jumping on that paper pond 

He never looked back up 

Practicing his diving skills I could see his eyes deepen in its reflection 

The slap of his feet on that wrinkled paper  

Tiny fists pressing fingers fleshy knuckles emptied white

Trying to steady his stout knees but the pond was slippery for toddler flippers especially on carpet

He kept almost falling after the jump 

I would always follow the sound and see paper

But in his water he always landed the splash