His helper’s smell and skin, he dreads
He hugs tulips, kisses the reds
Searches flowers where he can breathe
His soul is bleeding, a special need.
His silhouette’s edgy on sandy bed.
His thoughts are stuck inside his head
His pet flowers, jumbled reflections
His peers forever misconnections.
The helper captures, records in notes
‘He likes to play with cars and boats.’
In the cell of himself he chats to birds
Crows don’t care, they haven’t heard.
The giddy breeze plays happy daft
The sand is flying, makes him laugh.
His rubric forms a busy carnival.
‘Here is Goose, your favourite animal.’
His voice is stolen again in wind
He expects his playtime will never end
Then Mam will come and hold his hand
She loves him more than she can stand.
