The Week My Son Leaves Home

At the red light  
I can see inside  
 
the fast food place  
with the atrium  
 
playground. A mother  
wipes the face  
 
of a child who tries  
to pry himself away  
 
from her, eager to return  
to the cylinder slide.  
 
Surely there is a physics model for this— 
 
the tug and the pull.  
I can feel his warm  
 
gummy hands 
in mine, sticky  
 
with juice. I can  
feel him slip loose.