I’ve adopted
a son at work
who still lives at home
in my cubicle.
He has a shock of dark hair
that follows him like a storm cloud.
He teaches music.
He plays in a coupla bands.
He’s a good dad.
He borrows my nail polish
& asks me to braid
the nimbus of his hair.
He’s a badass rocker.
He has that ancient magic,
voodoo child guitarist,
maestro.
But the day he said
you’ve been a better mom to me
than my own,
because I offered to mail an envelope…
he became mine.