Men and Boys

The search for the Absolute

is tempered in a great man

by a mother who will always

think of him as a child.

He may move kingdoms

with sword or pen

and love a beautiful Circe,

but his mother

sees tin soldiers lined up

on the table, and she knows

when it's time for his nap

by the dispositions on his face.

He pouts and she smiles,

he smiles and she laughs,

he laughs and she thinks of

gods and men and little boys,

and tucks him in at night,

chasing the ghosts away.