Here’s Looking at You Kid
For that child
whose eyes shyly
peek through the chained
linked fence, that surrounds
the playground.
I see you when I walk the dog,
standing alone, frayed blue
coat, black, stained sweatpants…
You remain stoic in the corner.
While other children run and play…
Burning off energy during recess
Waiting for Bella to
look up at you and acknowledge your
presence.
I wave hi,
you slowly wave back.
As we continue our stroll around the corner.
You follow, not saying a word…
Suddenly, a smile--
as my dog and I walk out of
sight.
A minute of happiness.
I hope.
A former collegiate offensive lineman and football coach for 26 years, Dan Provost’s poetry has been published both online and in print since 1993. He is the author of 15 books/chapbooks. His latest, Wolf Whistles Behind the Dumpster was released by Roadside Press in November 2022. He has been twice nominated for The Best of the Net and has read his poetry throughout the United States. He lives in Berlin, New Hampshire with his wife Laura, and dog Bella.
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