Young Boy Still
Watching from the grassy lawn
Sitting in his folding chair.
With his veteran’s cap upon
Taking in the whole affair.
Sits a man of many decades
Hair of white and skin that’s weathered.
Uniform adorned with braid
Medals on his chest are tethered.
Balanced upon his daddy’s shoulders
Delighted with the grand parade.
Maybe six but not much older
Bright eyed boy sports red Band-Aid.
In between the floats and snare drums
Little boy’s brown eyes connect.
With the face of age and wisdom
Joined with smiles warm and direct.
The final float with riders waving
Crowds break up and drift away.
Clean up crews now sweep the paving
But the old man sits and stays.
From his chair he eyes the boy
His thoughts turn back to long ago.
Remembering childhood days of joy
Parades and picnic campfires glow.
Now his faces a mass of wrinkles
Arthritic hands and dimming sight.
Still his old eyes hold a twinkle
As he watches youth so sprite.
Even though the years have spoken
Time and health have slipped away.
In his spirit youth unbroken
Living still a bright boy plays.
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