Walking away

A childlike life will get you all the fun;

when to rest and when to jump and play;

what’s in a wrestle, settle, dance or run,

what makes a small adventure every day.

 

Of how he talked, ate, mullocked, slept at night,

worn out, stayed superconscious in the eyes,

no dusty schoolbooks, more a dancing light;

his pain was shadow for the rest of us

 

but now’s a time when children leave, vamoose,

a moment when we say goodbye, ta-ra,

and when we stare towards the vanishing point

all hearts are aching, every head is faint.

 

He glances round and says ‘merci’, ‘au revoir’

and quickly turns his back, you’re no more use.