I Love to Write

[b]Nephew's are just cooler than you
[/b]


I watch the child play
As myself
He has the same taste
Preferring the gully's hidden places
To the park's swings and cages

With stick in hand
He lifts the rock
Waiting to strike
At anything that might
Give him a shock

I watch him jump back
stand still a moment
either to admire
or laysentence
All I hear is the sound
of rocks echoing

He makes a pile of his conquests
hoping to impress me

I'm impressed
and perhaps a little jealous

(His pile being twice the size
mine ever was.)

I kneel down and look him
in the eye " You know, you have to eat what you kill."

And with a face already accustomed to defiance,

He says " I will, when I'm done."

And off he runs, laughing, knowing.

He had me fooled.