She tells me
Apparently,
I was a naughty boy
At three,
Disappearing in a shopping centre,
Lost for what felt like hours.
Legend has it,
The infant siren song caught air-conditioned wind
And led the search party to a curtained grotto.
She tells me, there, they found
My talent on display,
A song and dance before a giant mirror,
While curious stranger neighbours
Changed their clothes.
I don’t believe the myth,
I had no talent then and precious little now, I think.
But it sure sounds fun.
Rumour has it, the best days are behind us.
Though my young’un’s on her way
into legend now.
Loves that tale.
Copyright © Jonathan Holcroft | Year Posted 2025
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