Ode to Autism

‘
Just a single.’ I raise a finger
and a waitress nods and leads me to a single
chair at a single table, deep inside
a City eater
It’s several days
since I saw my son
He’s a ‘single’;
spending big phase
alone.
The thought’s like a shudder
carried over water
to another shore

but in dodgems, where bumpers
bang and shock,
he shakes
with glee: delighting
in a burn and crash
contained in space
with loved-ones close
and surly fairground helpers
bound by electricity.

One time in Ireland,
the owner let us ride again and again
for free. He’ll meet Saint Peter.

But now I whisper to myself
below a lunchtime hubbub
in a City of London restaurant
that here are tons of people, tough
as gulls, alone, forever squalling
lonely
on and on above the sea,
buffeted by what happens next
and whatever’s meant to be.

William Wordsworth 'Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass'