sunny saturday stroll boy wanders
behind along he follows them all
far enough for the steps and snippets
close enough to wander me alone

they veer right as life carries on
he goes left onto a thickets of field
lost in a world between his two toes
seeking for clover by candlelight heals

looking up dazed to see the big “huh?”
two decades gone on – a third in the dust
friends have proceeded to go onto their homes
the lone candle carried now a torch of “I must”

the handle is scarred, corroded from whether
covered and scored in thousands of nots
burnt from the years for a lighthouse to keep
magpied with memories, a touchstone it’s fraught

stumbling off from his pedestal down
armed with epiphanies, blind to all else
amazed that a world still turns for those left
as friendships go grey, spring blurs to fall

pickup the pieces, repair what you may
clover-full field now all gone to seed
to continue is life, learning the way
with pain as a crown and love as a creed