Across the fields of yesterday
He sometimes comes to me,
A little lad just back from play-
The lad I used to be.
And yet he smiles so wistfully
Once he has crept within,
I wonder if he hopes to see
The man I might have been.
Sometimes
Thomas S. Jones, Jr.
(1)
Poem topics: sometimes, play, yesterday, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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