Three Poems For My Son

barbilla

you fell this morning,
managed to juke your
way among the pillows

for 15 minutes
I carried you
held you close

cupped your head
in-between my
shoulder and barbilla

and on the
16th minute
you smiled

labios

when they see you
they will say

"oh my how
you have stretched"

and you smile
the way you do

the pinch of your
labios push backward

push the weight of
your cheeks backwards

until each appear
suspended

despues

on my shoulder
there lives
a small nook

it is the
place
you rest

your head
turned left
in repose

and after
despues the
short struggle

the weight
of your dreams
find comfort