becoming a man

D will be 13 this summer. His mother B carried him
while I carried Sonnyboy who will be 13 this spring. Sonnyboy is at home

with his aide J. While D works outside with B,
Sonnyboy is having his diaper changed. I usually don't think

about the difference but today I stand on the threshold
of the apartment where I lived when they were born. I look across

the street and D and B are up on the hill preparing
their garden for spring and tears fill my eyes. I realize

at this point even if Sonnyboy lives for 100 years he will never
catch up enough to be out in the garden with me talking

and weeding. I go out to the curb and sit on my car, compose myself,
and as I glance at the house, I see B and D reflected

in the bay window. Sonnyboy's father and I put that window in by ourselves,
years ago, before I stopped looking up and out and ahead.