Portrait of Alex
for Peg Mosel
Start with the curve of his cheek
that points the way to his eyes-
two black coals that steal light
from heaven with every blink
and lead us home.
Now, he jumps and skips
in place, each step closer
to what he knows is just one bounce
from eternity, or at least enough
to make a well-trained boxer jealous.
He leans into his smile
with just the right amount
of tease: holding back a little
means he loves you a lot.
Soon, he learns to draw flowers,
his fingers holding chalk
meant for Picasso in another time.
Here, he is ours, for now,
his art like rose petals
just behind my eyes
that move slightly in the breeze
when the dream that sleeps
there, for him alone,
begins to stir.