maturity of some sort.
has the boy
in you
died.
no longer are you checking
box scores
in the morning news.
no longer
wasting fine
days
watching children
a third your
age tossing balls
and running across
green fields.
it was glorious when
it was you,
but
now a good book,
a good movie,
a walk
with you will do.
No comments:
Post a Comment