Sometimes by Thomas S. Jones, Jr.

Sometimes

By Thomas S. Jones, Jr.

Across the fields of yesterday
He sometimes comes to me,
A little lad just back from play–
The lad I used to be.

And yet he smiles so wistfully
Once he has crept within,
I wonder if he hopes to see
The man I might have been.

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~ by notrous on April 22, 2012.

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