Parenthood

Cold nights, feet and knees chill soaked
Saturated with clear winter skies
Night seeps into the joints and flesh
That take a long time to warm.

Strange, lonely days
Quiet, still, and dark,
Naps by the side of the road
WIth the doors locked,
Meals eaten alone as my son cooks his own food
Keeps his own hours
His fresh company.

I still worry
That he's got a warm coat tonight.