Trust

My son's boxers

size 10 - 12

flimsy cotton

in a light blue plaid,

the mark of ghetto wear

rising above low slung jeans

a mere slip of fabric

between tender genitals

and rough denim threads

the world at large.

The faith we have in

clothing to protect,

project and pretend.

I bore this child

and now he flies

in his own world,

of rock n roll

and skateboards

on his long, paddle feet.

Yet night comes

and still he fingers

his old lambskin

before sleep.