Griffin calls to come and kiss him goodnight
 I yell ok. Finish something I'm doing,
 then something else, walk slowly round
 the corner to my son's room.
 He is standing arms outstretched
 waiting for a bearhug. Grinning.

 Why do I give my emotion an animal's name,
 give it that dark squeeze of death?
 This is the hug which collects
 all his small bones and his warm neck against me.
 The thin tough body under the pyjamas
 locks to me like a magnet of blood.

 How long was he standing there
 like that, before I came?