Upstairs, Second Door on the Right
Tread softly up the stairs and down the hall
to the door marked with yellow caution tape.
No light escapes under the door so you think,
If it is empty, it must be safe.
So bravely you enter.
Sundown cuts through the blinds like a blade.
Scattered about like so much confetti you see
games, books, clothes, shoes,
discarded jackets falling off chairs,
a backpack hanging on a doorknob.
Lego knights and Jedi knights locked in
eternal combat in a forgotten corner.
You think the room abandoned,
the caution tape an unnecessary affectation.
But you are wrong.
No longer a boy – not quite a man –
he sits on the floor in the shadows.
Head nodding to music
you cannot hear.
Hands beating a tattoo in the air.
Aware of your presence,
he looks up and smiles.
And, for a moment,
light is everywhere.
Love never forgets its promise.