At Being A Boy...

In the late afternoon my daydreams
So peacefully ease
To grandma's hands, interlaced with my fingers
On wings unguarded
My childhood lingers...

Sweet smells of morning bacon
Take me away
Into pulchritude's paintbrushes and remembrances
That I smile through memories thickness
And pleasure myself with the tickles
Of my youth in all its whimsy
Still, the dream-like expression
On my face in the mirror
Does not lie, but so reverently malingers
In the catacombs of my belief system
And through that same
Peaceful ease
I awaken to the happy notion
That I am alive
So happy that I am not
In some sepulcher
But still dancing in my solitude
And still smiling
At the miracles
Of my youth,
Oh happy joy
Had I
At being a boy,
So I smile,
A secret smile,
Relieved,
At my own joyous,
Recollection...

Tony Taylor