What happened to the young one,
that little man once me,
a playful lad with a huge grin,
born out in levity...
where are his weathered jeans,
his baseball cap and mitt,
the laces that were never tied
on shoes that never fit...
where are his agates and steelies,
his rusty pocket knife,
his slingshot and can of worms,
that was a different life...
what happened to the young one
with the quizzical brow,
that little boy of yesterday,
where is he living now...
where did he sneak away to,
the young one that was me,
where is his treasure buried,
why won't he let me see?
John R Tarter
J