FOR B. <br /> <br />Somewhere ahead I see you <br />watching something out your window, <br />what I don’t know. You’re tall, <br />not on your tiptoes, green, <br />no longer yellow, <br />no longer little, little one, <br />but the changeless changing <br />seasons are still with us. <br />Summer’s back, <br />so beautiful it always reeks of ending, <br />and now its breeze is stirring <br />in your room commanding the lawn, <br />trying to wake you to say the day is wasting, <br />but you’re north of childhood now and out of here, <br />and I’ve gone south.<br /><br />Jonathan Galassi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/north-of-childhood/
