I’d like to be that boy
flat on the sidewalk in the sun.
He’s not wailing and his mother’s not scolding,
just patiently urging, Get up, as the boy
ponders the sky
and takes what comes as it comes.
I’d like to be that boy
flat on the sidewalk in the sun.
He’s not wailing and his mother’s not scolding,
just patiently urging, Get up, as the boy
ponders the sky
and takes what comes as it comes.