is a gentle Please clean up your room
and he cleans up his room and
when I say, Let’s give these Canada geese a chase,
he becomes the wind.
From his Halloween bucket he offers me treats.
I only take candies I know he doesn't like
and he says:
We will always love each other because
we don’t like the same things.
Of that boy there is nothing now.
Not a hair of him, not a finger print, no forensics.
Just photos and diary notes
remain as my proof
to the cops he was really here.
All of him carried away with his small teeth
by the Fairy in her talons.
And then a bold freed slave appears at the door.
Bushy and tall, demanding his rights, some appalling.
So sudden. This manhood. As sudden
as the strike of a match.
It takes a while to recover from a death,
from grief.
But I do.
Already he redecorates the bedroom
and uses his unmade bed for a hamper.
Yesterday I say, Welcome to my home.
It was starting to get lonely.
No comments:
Post a Comment