Orange Bow Tie

A boy in an orange bow tie

smiles as I leave each day.

And when

I return home each evening,

he’s smiling the same way.

If late, I dash right by him,

full knowing that he’s there.

I make

no attempt to look his way,

still he smiles without a care.

Sweet the smile, the innocence,

how quickly boys do grow,

into

men with faded photographs

of those they used to know.