The Reverse
“Your children
are not your children…”
Sweet Honey sings, and I
believe them now,
looking at my boy,
arms out,
forward and back, balanced
over one wheel,
caught
in that hesitation, the
quick turn before
going forward.
I see him ride off
past the neighbor’s lilacs,
around the corner
by the house with the dog, and I
know it was never
a question of
him belonging to me, only
and always
the reverse.
—Paul Terranova
