Because we all want to write more poems.
CONVERSATION WITH THE BOY II
The boy is sitting by the lake
Pitching stones
A meditative act
I nod, he responds
We walk together
He is afraid
Of something unspoken
Unseen, crushed down
Into a small hole
And covered up
The boy is thin and small
But not starving
Not curled or groveling
He prefers to sit
But will walk in search
Of fear
He walks slowly
I bite my lower lip
And wish I knew how to ask
The question I do not know
Do you dream? I ask
It is the wrong question
Never, he replies
And arcs another stone
Into the water
Still disturbed by the first one
Have you been here long? I ask
Another wrong question
The thin boy smiles
Time is like water, he replies
Another stone flies
He should ask the next question
And he does
Do you love me? he asks
Of course I do, I blurt
Thinking of stones and water
Then why do you come here?
He looks me in the eye
Cool, defiant, unafraid
What do you want?
The same thing you do, I retort
Love
To be wanted, accepted
But not by you
Always by me, he says
I have no response
Always by me, he repeats
Now ask your question
The boy sits down
Facing the lake
Do you dream? I ask
Always, he replies
As I knew he would
- joshua mertz's Shared Poems
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