The boy creeps up on me sometimes

Bart Wolffe

THE BOY CREEPS UP ON ME SOMETIMES

The boy creeps up on me sometimes.

Particularly when the wind blusters and begs

For feet to kick around at stones

And set them tumbling down the slope

To where the sea is waiting

Chill and crisp and slaps against the pebble shore

And a black-headed gull mocks

Those on the ground below

Who only dream they are on the seaside

When actually

The horizon is an office wall

And the boy, well, he ran away long ago.

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