September 5, 2009
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about a boy
I met a boy yesterday. an older boy…13? 14?
What was different about this boy?
he was still a boy.
most of the boys get so old–much older than me–by this time, after living on the streets. after struggling to receive their next meal. after so many years of NOT knowing. not having anything for sure–down to where he’d sleep that night. it grows you old.
But i looked into his face and it was clear. open. innocent.
He still had that look that made me happy and sad and longing and scared all at once.
Happy because he was a picture of the world as it should be.
Sad because so much isn’t as it should be.
Longing because everything beautiful makes me ache for my true home, and
Scared because we are so fragile and i cannot protect him. i can’t shelter him…and one day he will be broken.
but today i met a boy who was still a boy.
and i forgot his name.
