In the early afternoon
if I am home
most often,
I’m on the front porch.
I sit there and I hope
that he will walk by.
Often he does,
on his way to work,
and I cherish those few moments.
Even though
he won’t talk to me,
he no longer knows
the strange old guy sitting there.
He only knows what he’s been told.
Years ago, he knew me well.
I took him everywhere I went,
my little partner,
and he looked up to me then
with such love in his little eyes.
Now I watch him passing
and I wonder,
can he feel the love I hold
for him,
or the pride that I have
in him?
The distance is so very small, but
we are separated by the years.
He goes by and my eyes follow
and as he gets farther down the road
he becomes smaller and smaller
in my watery eyes,
shrinking,
as did his knowledge of me
and his fondness for me
as the time passed.
Then he is gone from my sight
and I whisper to myself
I love you
son.
-22 April 2016
