My White Knight

He comes trudging up the stairs
as if his feet weigh a few tons each
but I know it is his heart that is heavy

and all I want to do is fit him into the
orbit of my arms so I can whisper
into his ear of his triumphs like
he’s still that little boy dreaming of
the exploits that will make him famous
or at least make him happy someday

and the closer I hold him (I hope)
he realizes those moments are right now
with his hand on my knee and his head
in the clouds and everything riding on
the next important thing

the thing that doesn’t seem
so important when his back
is resting on my chest and
my fingers are in his hair.


One thought on “My White Knight

  1. But the knight can never reach the summit,
    and hold himself to higher glories still,
    Alexander weeping at the host of kingdoms to conquer,
    and reality is not large enough
    to grant the greed of man
    needing to serve,
    to vanquish,
    to be.


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