At Night

Posted on April 21, 2011

Number 70 approaches

It unsettles me.

How much time

Do I have?

Not for me.

For both of us.

A few such as he

live independent lives.

But what of those

who can’t become persons

whole unto themselves

who lean upon others

some cruel and uncaring.

I believe he can be whole,

but the question

still sits heavily on my mind.

Do we have enough time

resources, and will?

I cannot think on it long

I take a deep night-time breath

I must remember

A day at a time…

A step at a time…

A breath at a time.

How do I hurry slowly?

Push without pulling?

How do we climb a hill

 which may turn maliciously

 into a downward slope?

It tears at me each day

and I know that he knows.

He can see it within me

And there is fear

in his implacable eyes.

He tries to hide it, like me

I sense the fear in him, too.

 His days with me are changing.

Today we played chess

for the first time in years

It was a message.

“Dad, I’m trying.”

At night, I whisper,

“I know you are, son

I know.”

We both are.

Posted in: Autism