We Two

sit in this chair together -

You
and
I

You, not in my lap
or in my arms -
simply right here . . . by my side,
one of your legs crossed over the other
just like a little old man.
I, with my own legs crossed
not unlike yours,
steal glances at you
from time to time.

Every now and again
you let your head fall
against my shoulder.
You whisper a few phrases
my head can't understand -
but heart fully comprehends.

I speculate . . .
It won't always be this way,
what, with you being a boy -
and I, your mother,
I suppose one day you'll be
"too big to sit with mom"
But for now . . . .
I imagine heaven to be something like this.