Boy

A poem about the progression of life around us.

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1. Boy

Boy

 

The sun shone with a sweltering heat above me,

as I walked to and fro houses, weaving across the street

grunting as I adjust by backpack straps,

cursing the newspapers that weigh me down

 

A crack suddenly erupted out of the ground,

causing my fragile balance I had managed to tumble,

a previously unpresent gust of wind screeched across,

and papers littered the sky.

 

I caught them as if they were fireflies in a jar,

clawing at the air,

grabbing and growling

and they gained life and flew away.

 

He chuckled from across the street,

skipped up to me in his shiny black shoes,

a smile across his aged but cheerful face,

ah, let me help, my boy

 

We used to wave,

through snowstorm or under the basking sun,

he would step down his stone steps and cheer,

Ah, hello my boy! Hello, hello hello. How are you?”

 

Somedays, I considered tossing the bundles,

disposing them in a criminal manner,

but I thought of him,

waiting at his window, looking forward to the funnies.

 

I saw him meander around town,

sporting his leather cap and coat,

no matter the warmer temperatures,

greeting those around him in a song.

 

During the many summers,

I would spectate from afar,

the many banterings of he and his wife.

I got my idea of love from them.

 

He was a man who loved,

adored his wife,

yet he never managed

to put away his miscellaneous tools.

 

Winters and summers flew by,

much like the papers did when I met him,

and I delivered his last paper onto his step.

He was not there to greet me

 

One day I returned,

I worked in the gas station after returning from abroad,

through the packaged assorted nuts and spices

I saw a leather cap.

 

His smile had faded,

his eyes had sunken,

the song had since been silenced,

as he inspected an avocado

 

I saw the beard that furnished his face.

He wasn’t wearing a beard.

He was wearing his grief.

 

He shuffled up the aisle,

looked up,

Ah, Hello my boy. Hello...

 
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