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The Boy on the Bench
November 14, 2013
His name I did not catch
But he had a face that was hard
to match,
Nor by age marred.
I thought he seemed slightly pale
Sitting alone in the wood,
Hidden behind the veil
Of his darkened hood
When I came close enough to touch
He held his hands in
I couldn't see much
And speech I could not win
His name I did not catch
But I knew he had a face that was hard
to match,
Nor by age marred.
I asked him please and could I see
And when he did lift his head
A tremor went through me.
The boy was dead.
© Geoffrey D., Milford, CT
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