Mom, he says, what’s déjà vu?
he’s worried about how I will answer.
when in fact the situation is new.
he’s going to be a doctor, too.
a bird with a broken wing.
I tell him. He is not convinced.
stupid things even if I’m really smart.
I have heard, like a remembered door.
My darling, I tell him, you’re fine.
I’ve said this to him before.
You’re fine, I say, and unknit his hands.
This is wonderful. I especially love the lines from where you take your son’s worry to heart and all the way down, though the entire poem resonates with that wry kind of wisdom your parent/child poems consistently contain. This one is for the collection, For Poets Trying to be Parents 🙂 One thing: I think you want “whose” instead of “who’s” up there near the start of the poem.