Who Is This Boy?

A poem about a boy and his momma

Who Is This Boy?

Who is this boy?
Eyes as deep as the moon is high.
A smile that stretches beyond 
my fear.
 
Sometimes he calls me mom
instead of momma.
He holds up five fingers 
to keep my emotions at length.
 
He runs toward unfamiliar places,
exhilarated by what he might find—
by who he might become.
 
But as light gives way to shadow, 
I become his momma again—
his safe place to be still.
 
And as he sleeps, I wonder,
where does he go in his dreams?
Who will he be upon waking?