Is this your child?
someone asked me
when I was shopping
in a crowded store.

Is this your child?

I stopped for a moment
and looked at
at my son.
He hadn’t let me
comb his hair
that day,
and he wore his
favorite teeshirt
which was
decorated
in ketchup red
and chocolate
brown.

His face was smudged
and dirty,
we had been
to the park
and he had fallen
in a mud puddle.
He was singing
God Bless America
over and over
in his offpitch
voice.

Is this your child?

She asked again
I looked into her
unfriendly eyes
and cringed at
her tone of voice.

Taking a deep breath
I ruffled that unruly hair
kissed his smudgy cheek.
Turning to face her
I answered
loudly and proudly

“Oh yes,
this is my child
his name is Dhylan
Isn’t he wonderful?”