beau outgrown

he climbs the tree outside my window
to the very top. then
perched in the highest branches,
he smiles at me.
"open the window and sit on the ledge.
talk again about your dreams."
"i have no dreams now, only plans,
and someone else to share them with."
"sneak outside and climb the boughs.
swing again from the very top."
"i am too old for those games now.
i have others you won't understand."
and, perched in the highest branches,
he smiles at me -
his round white face blurred with sadness.

/19 dec 1984/