Watching headlights,
chilly nights,
a gasp and artwork,
glass drawing figures
upon a picture window,
later reserved for mom
with windex and a paper towel,
lazy fingerprints in twilight
oh the sordid dreams of a ten year old,
a silent night before the winters
of my yearn.
Hours would be spent,
watching a moon rise,
the glow of street lamps nearby,
cars driving along the avenue,
waiting for one,
hopeful,
she might return sooner
than perhaps she might intend.
Like every evening since my childhood,
there’s always a reflection
in the eyes of a young boy,
still waiting,
his wondering, wandering mind,
wishful that that holiday
atmosphere
might bring a sweet serenade
her presence
in his dream
car lights hold a mystery.
apersonaljourney - stories of love 
2 thoughts on “When Just a Child”
enchantingsunrise
This is beautiful, perhaps the best you have ever written
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a quiet man
Wow, thank you so much, I’m happy you like it. 🙂
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