Holding My Son

His tiny arms
Stretching out to me
He moves closer
But not too quickly

I can tell he is
Looking for Mommy
She is softer, prettier
And she smells better

I watch his tiny face
Decide that Daddy is
An acceptable substitute
While she is gone

Kneeling, I embrace him
He collapses into my chest
He is oddly subdued
And holds tight my neck

He seems reluctant
As if he understands
There are things that
I need to do

His tiny hands
Pat my shoulder
As if to say
“This won’t take long”