his mother's son

How his eyes crinkle
when he smiles,
the way he gets lost
in a book,
his tender heart,
his hair:
the me in him
I love to see.

If only we gave
only the good.

How the ghosts of
imaginary expectations
haunt him,
the way correction
makes him squirm,
his tender heart,
his fear:
the me in him
I cannot take away.

God help us both.