My Boy

I’d bought the best brie
and real French baguette
for my son’s lunch.
I see him rarely these days.

He stood tall and smiling in the doorway
orthodontically perfect
but otherwise with some of my imperfections.

We sat at the window in the winter sun
and he showed me his latest designs
proudly – he’d taken all the photos himself,
written the business plan
and wants to launch himself into the world.

He ate with relish and a man’s appetite
and asked if he could borrow the laptop.
I’d have gladly given him all I own.

Declined a wine.
Unlike me,
he doesn’t drink in the middle of the day.