I was talking to woman who owned a health food store
When a boy of 14 or 15 came up behind her.
He gently put his left hand on her waist
Leaned his head over her right shoulder and waited
For her to stop speaking
At his touch, she glanced and seeing him, she smiled
And continued our conversation.
His eyes looked into mine, curious.
I tore away from his stare.
“He’s my son,” she casually said.
We all stood there for a second, frozen in time.
There was a roar in my ears they could not hear.
I didn’t need her explanation.
The gesture was way too familiar to me.
It was a gesture I couldn’t have anymore.
I envied them
And felt like an intruder.
Yet, I wanted to linger to soak in their simple joy.
It was a part of their everyday.
And it would