A boy I remember once sat on a curb,

On a warm, sunny, day almost fifty years ago I say.

Listening to the airplanes going by, fly so high,

Hands rested on his face, a street and a place far away.

He would stare from where he sat, a thinking child,

I remember him well when he lost that smile.

A car that no longer moved, the life in it lost,

Now the memory of a man who sat at the wheel.

A place and a street that exists till this day,

A curb where once a boy no more dreamed and played.

What has faded now is a man and a car,

A boy who has aged more than a father whom at one time

Carried him on his shoulders.

Now from the trees, only a shadow on a curb you’ll see,

A memory of a boy who sat and stared at a car driven

by a father whom he can no longer see.

Keith Garrett


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