Michael on the Bus

Ever since you were three, pointed up and said,
"Look, Mom - a smiling moon!"
I'd been waiting for another gift like that.
For years, I nudged you to love what I loved,
a cloud, a field, a shadow
at some point though, I knew to stop,
just let you be twelve with your Marvel cards and Sega games.
I dreamed of Italy all my life.
We were just off the plane, exhausted,
half folded in our bus seats
our eyes closing, rolling,
out through the window
oh god, help us see
rows of green-gold-morning
your head bouncing, heavy on my arm
till you broke our speechless hand-squeezing,
said,
"Mom, I cant believe this place, its like a story-book, a dream!"
My mouth was still
but my heart made a moon-shaped smile.

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