Before he goes
to sleep,
my son pinches
his ear lobe
and it seems
that no harm
will come
to him.
Small gestures
from childhood
tide us through
the night.
Our grandest
ambitions,
our dreams
come true
will never
parallel the little
ecstasies
of innocence.
Our mothers'
wordless
nuzzles,
perhaps,
will greet us
in heaven.
(Nov. 28, 2009)
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