Son

I watch you in sleep
because I can--
the veils of daytime all lifted from your face,
no pain as you dream.
I watch you in sleep
because you will wake again--
sunlight lapping across your skin,
frail and pliable--willow branches in the slightest wind.

When you sleep, I forget
the mysterious alchemy I mush extert
to produce from this boy--a man...
the faith it takes for this.

I watch you in sleep
wires running from your arm--
a sapling's most breakable bough,
your arm, slick with your own blood,
holds the line.
The line--jealous as I am--
it crosses through the veins I knit together for you
when we shared my body and you hadn't yours yet.

That line touches your heart,
like rain-slicked Autumn weather and
I want to be thin wire--
want to tremble with each humble heartbeat.
I watch you in sleep--
as I have these brief years.
We fell just on this side of the blade, my love.
I watch you in sleep--

because you are there.

© cds, 2005