This is for a very special someone named "Emily" . . . or Lisa, or Cindy, or Yolanda, or . . .
A BOY LEFT WAITING
The warm safety of daylight yields to the evening
Half of the lake shudders under the moon
While the rusty sky quietly tip-toes away
To cower in darkness
He lies on the new dock and listens to the water
As it gently spanks the shore in contempt
And in the midst of this solitary scolding
He can do nothing but think back on that dream
...and recall her soft face and tender ways
But he knows his arrival is
Years too late
She will not return on this evening
Or any other
There is one duck on the water
Drifting with the current
And, of course, somewhere across the lake
A lonely dog cries into the night
We will walk on frosted fields of juniper and lamplight,
we will get it right . . . someday . . .
somewhere in time.
~ Stephen T. McCarthy
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