Boy Waiting

Waiting

Here he sits, in the sunshine,
Golden haired boy dressed in blue and gold
Unaware of his thoughts, “Just thinking,”
He’d answer. “Nothing much. Just thinking.”

Here he sits, in the sunshine,
Blue-eyed boy dressed in blue and gold
Adrift in a world of feelings. Unsure of himself,
Waiting for someone to call his name,
To claim his attention and pull him into the action of the day.

Here he sits in the afternoon sun,
Invisible boy sitting on his ball,
Observing, not expecting much,
Waiting for the call that will bring him back to life, into the game,
Anywhere where he is wanted.

Here comes his mom, hurrying to be there for practice.
Sees him sitting on his ball, alone. Her heart melts.
Should she intrude upon this silent revery?
She hesitates, watches the match, a sideways glance at him.

He hasn’t moved, just staring, chin down, toward the field.
“Tyler,” she calls, making her voice sound out of breath.
“I just got here. What’s going on?”
”Nothin’ much, Mom,” he says, but gives her a big smile
Before he turns his head back to the field.