Little Boy Lost

without a compass
his tenuous bearings
a westerly sun
leading home


3 thoughts on “Little Boy Lost

  1. somehow

    the shadows
    mount the Sun
    and turn to cut me
    from being thickly
    hidden in the vines
    the tines
    are leaves here
    they say
    they are the
    corners spied
    what lies
    pied full of plums
    and everything
    that my fingers
    grub a reach for
    holding fast
    to the side
    of the road
    sticking out
    a thumb
    for the how
    the future
    might hold
    a thought of being
    warm to
    nearly done

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