The Nature Boy
A boy of six walked past my way,
Crossing my path in wild disarray,
With silver mucus on his nose
Like frozen dew on winter’s rose.
His hair was crowned with earthen play,
Smoked with soil from hours of day,
Soft bubbles rose with every breath,
Like fragile dreams that feared their death.
His face lay painted in dusty brown,
Tears ran rivers slowly down,
Carving lines on tender cheeks,
Settling near his chin so weak.
A child of earth, of dirt and sky,
Where laughter lives and tears pass by,
Nature’s son in raw embrace,
Wearing life upon his face.
