Take me home

Take me

The holes in the tall fence of

the school yard stare wild

at me – rows of mirrors and eyes

suck in the air above the rolling pathway

to the car park where I stand, staring

back at them for a minute. My boy

awaits my arrival – his grips

on the fence point to his eyes

frothy with fatigue

and excitement at once.

‘Home’!’ The only word he can say.

His bliss is infectious I give him a

bear hug and feel the puff

of his cheeks. He satiates

this mute pleasure and taps his tummy to

tell me how hungry he is.

He points to his crunched up cheek

to ask for another kiss and glues

his body next to mine,

while we’re leaving his school,

to erase the day’s loneliness he had

had to endure.