My son knows all the lines
of every play he’s seen performed
he knows the lyrics of songs
and the rhymes
of sonnets and ballads
he knows the Psalms I’ve taught him
the sermons he’s heard at church
the prayers of strangers
and curses too
all the words of a world
observed
for six years
Everyone applauds at the parties
they always giggle and clap
so delighted
the ladies wearing satin dresses
embroidered with jewels and pearls
seeing them, you’d think
we’re the clay
of earth’s daylight
while they’re distant nights
filled with stars
Why isn’t he frightened,
so young, so observant?
Why doesn’t he just play and pretend to forget
like the rest of us do
when we’re watched?