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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Little Boy Passing

I watched as the small boy passed
across the street.
He stared at the front wheel of
his toy car, never lifting his head.
Absorbed little ambassador of silence.
Behavioral problems.
Prospects bleak for the present.
I ask the Holy Mother to look after him.
To have God come by with a toy.
To bring playmates for yelling and screaming.

I see flashes of manhood.
What could be.
What may be.
All I have is a prayer.
A vision of holiness which barely
supports me, let alone the world I see.
But I pray for you, boy with sad eyes.
Bewildered awe.
I empty my pockets of good will for you.
Invisible alms of my affection.
And a party be had where you have
a happy place,
and life loves you for being here.

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