boy

today I saw you through the face of another

boy

who did cannonballs

and ate cake,

who wore battle scars

from his fort in the woods,

with poison ivy dotting his arms,

and I felt the vacancy sign

silently sway

in the breezy front porch

of my own bare arms

that will never hold you.

as my autumn approaches

i wonder who you would have been,

and i picture the curious eyes

searching,

and smell the murky odor of nature

lingering in your tussled hair.

it is in other

boys

that i can see you

and feel the deep pit of remorse

for days

not celebrated

with pop-up Hallmark cards

of Woody and Buzz

and watch you

cannonball

toward the girls

and laugh as you make them shriek

with wanton

joy.