o sonny boy

Anjail Ahmad

     For Stephen c. Ferguson

head in the clouds

is what i said as gently as i could

half under my breath

to my colleague as we road along in his car. one eye on the road,

one ear screwed to his phone.

Exasperated as he listened to his son’s exploits

and the list of items he’s forgotten once more to collect before heading home—-

having raise my own boy filled

with absent-minded wonder the day long--

that was followed upon by another observation: feet landing wherever they may.

this sums up the life of a boy

of about twelve who moves through his world

filled with dreaminess and untied shoes and shirt-tales

untucked. unclaimed coats and jackets left in his wake,

a thin wisp of a god

who rounds the edges of the playground. demarcating

the untold boundaries of his neighborhood kingdom.

father to the man who will one day emerge

sheltering all beneath his six-foot wing span

while holding us all in his palms.

Anjail Rashida Ahmad, PhD, published poet, educator and advocate, a professor of poetry and African-American literature, founding Director of the Creative Writing Program at North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University until I retired this past summer. Books: the color of memory, Klear Vizon Press, Chapbook, 1997; necessary kindling, LSU Press, 2001.