A poem dedicated to the world’s truly wonderful autistic children
As if through a telescope from afar
I watch his world move slowly across the carpet.
He turns the wheels of each toy car,
and lines them up perfectly
adjusting each one minutely.
I enter his space and hold orbit alongside him
and then, unpredictably
he lifts his eyes and contacts me.
One small but intensely bright moment.
He smiles, my daughter smiles, I smile
and we all have our eclipse
and we all stare directly into the sun
through our darkened glasses.
Then, before re-entry, he will hand me the yellow motor car.
A poem by soloneili