My Boy Is Leaving

Her boy is leaving
Flinging himself from the nest
She made alone from stardusty pages in story books
And the gluey gloss of high-heeled ideals.

Her boy is leaving
And when she sleeps
She dreams
Of carrying brown-skinned babies
Long, lush
Sweet-tasting summer meadows.

Her boy is leaving
In search of Shere Khan.
And musky flea-bitten lions
Orphaned baboons,
And duvets of deep African sunrise.

He packs his rucksack with a young man's fingers,
And hides the once hasty and clumsy child
Away among his crates of comics.

She sits cross legged on the wormy floor boards
Humming an old woman's lullaby.
And smiles as he leaves.

There are choirs that sing
Massive sound and deeply
Layered harmonies
Like the history in rocks
Oh I adore you
Oh I adore you
Oh I adore you

Be safe my son.

(July 2009)