This morning, my teenage boy and I
sit quiet on the couch. He does not move
to pick up his phone. I do not rise to work
or rush to make a meal. We sit, leaning
the trunks of our bodies into each other.
We do not say much. I close my eyes
and cherish his sapling weight.
There are so few people I dare now hug—
our hands, our bodies dangerous—
but here in this house so still I can almost
hear him growing, here in these minutes
that fell off the clock, here I remember
how surely we baptize each other with touch.
Such simple blessing. Silence. The metronome
of breath. The leaning in. Infectious love.
Rosemerry…you’ve done it again! You’ve captured this staggering time in words that wring my gut. And what a closing– Infectious love! This will remain in me for a long time, I promise!
sweet you, thank you. There are some blessings in this difficult time, and it turns out that enforced closeness has some good upsides. And thank you for the note on the closing. I waited and waited and waited for the right words to come. I almost gave up on it several times.