Autistic Son

About my son


At dusk she slumps with the sun 
struggling to solve her puzzle,
the flush of excitement
waning with the moon.
His eyes avoid her gaze.
Words are locked inside;
she cannot find the key.
Thrust into a tempest
branches are  buffeted
until she collapses, broken.
Yet, deep roots support her.
Peering though brume
she sees a smile, hears humming.
Stretching to grasp the core
enveloped by warmth 
as the sun rises.

© capricorn 2023
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This is excellent, my sister was a teacher at an autistic group attached to a school; she also adopted a young boy, now an adult. This all sounds familiar to me. My admiration for those that struggle with this is unbound. Great piece of writing.


I have a severely autistic son and can fully relate. He’s now a tall adult who requires one to one support and has lived a very good life in a care home for the last 13 years. I caught the highs and lows of it all in your poem. Hold on tight now.


I have no experience of autistic children, but I did love your poem. Sue.

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