My childhood self looked down at me
from deep in the full moon’s face.
His eyes did not remember me,
for these eyes took their place.
He squinted his eyes and frowned and said,
“You look like a boy I knew”.
Just then when you tilted up your head,
I saw my light in you –
A ghostly and familiar light
that chilled my moonlight spine.
For if you were the boy who once took flight,
this perch would not be mine.
“Took flight”? quivered I, with moonstruck eye,
“How flew”? And flew where to?”
“to the land of the grown-up jaded lies,
where there is no wonder in their eyes,
no play and just to-do”.
“Can I….can he….can we come back?
And how will we find our way?”
“When worldly eyes find light they lack,
the blackness turns to day”.
Then looking down, I saw a man – a stranger in my shoes.
He looked at me through moonlit skies,
my moonface did not recognize,
and the man with sad, unboyish eyes
dissolved in jaded hues.
By Benjamin Frandsen
See all poetry for Benjamin Frandsen #F29177