My son

My bambino grew up
And left home
He has two of his own now
Our conversations
Punctuated with the unspoken...
Amused he asked
If the end of the conversation we had reached
How do I convey that in my mind he
Occupies the central role
Dialogues I have, chats I filter
As if talking in person
That when the virtual reality happens
I am at a loss
I long to be in real
fondling his head, call him by nickname
Time leaps by..
He laughs at my home remedies
I want to say.' I told you so'
A pause , a moment
Time has jumped by
He has to make his own choices
For he is a man my son.