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I counted to fifty
as you ran to hide again
throughout the extensive garden
neath the trees above the Glen

the sound of feet upon gravel
gave a clue to your  whereabouts
though time had soon elapsed
as I panicked beginning to shout

“Where are you boy?
Come out now?”
yet your face did not appear
running though the stone opening
my feelings turning to fear

from behind me whispering “Dad”
unaware of all the fright
“I was hiding beneath the bushes Dad
you passed me earlier,twice”

holding my warm found treasure
as droplets dispersed from his nose
with the cool evening now upon us
hugging him from top to toe

my little boy was all I had left
in this mixed up cove called life
his intermittent disappearance
cutting me like a knife

as the gravel met our feet
upon our even, brisk walk home
wanting to capture the moment
with my boy
on our own