How Many Notice
The boy sitting ever so still,
Not small, but not full grown.
Black rimless cap immaculate and new
Black are his pants, shoes, jacket about the waist.
Crisp white shirt.
Not going to school this day.
Head down, face not seen.
Clutching a bouquet of yellow daisies,
Sitting among orange, red, yellow leaves
Still on trees in clumps in a peak of brilliant color.
Does he mourn? No movement.
Not a soul outside with him
And yet there is movement.
Traffic still drives down the road.
Do they see him?
How many notice?
How many stop to say a prayer with him?
She did.
It will be okay.
It doesn’t matter what the problem is,
God will make it okay.
She tosses a figurative shawl on the boy.
Her thoughts are with him.
She isn’t the only one, there are others.
Many.
~Regina Holt October 28, 2011
