eyes

I am the mom

who wheels her son

in his custom chair

up the hill to the playground

 

I park him on the perimeter

chat with a friend

while he sways

and cries out

 

I see you

and your second glances

eyes on him

then me

 

I know by now

what the looks mean

accusing:

you think I don’t care

 

I am sure you are right

but the better question is

who do I not care about:

him, or you?