One Year Gone

In my recollection you are a boy

Younger than the rod against which

The baritone of your voice

And the stubble of your chin

Would be tested.
You are a boy with curly hair

And brown cherub cheeks,

And every time you leap from the bed

To the air

It becomes a cloud

And you become Peter Pan. 
In my memory 

We stand shoulder to shoulder. 

Your fearlessness is infectious,

And I pretend to be unafraid. 
Where are you now?

I gray and bend,

And you are still a boy

Somewhere, straight-backed,

Smiling and fearless. 
They say you are the lucky one

Young, encapsulated in time,

Two dimensional, your story written

By us, those who remain, while you

Appear, fleeting, only in our dreams. 
Most of the time we are lost

And we search for you among the stars

Come from Neverland, and tell us 

What you found there. 

Are you still who we claim?

Were you ever?
You are gone one year. 

Is there time where you are?

Are you the boy again?

Can the rod that broke you reach you there?

What alms do we send? 

Send us a story. 

Even your shadow will do. 

Better still: send the star as a balm 

For we who remain. 

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