Held by the heel.

Dear Dream, we learn from the other.
So what am I to make of my son,
and consciousness?
Professionals watch differently and are attentive
to lack or loss--
the pursuit of toy figures,
rewinding. Endlessly watching.
Father will attest to the hard stone.
One can hear curses, he'll say.
My son however, is a Jacob.
His remarkable ability to catalogue
manifests a creative alphabet-- yearning
in paint or word.