The Boy on the Bench

for my brother, Robert Alan Kettelhack, 1945-1989

The obvious thing
to note would be
that he seems shy –
watching bubbles
that a little girl blows up

float by: a little boy
is not supposed to sigh,
or cry. And so he won’t.
But don’t say “don’t.”
He knows already

what the rules are.
And who the fools are.
He is four.
And very near the door:
he might

at any little flight
of fright slip in – again –
away – to when
and where the prospect
of experience won’t chafe –

to where he’ll think he has
at least a chance
of being safe.
How pretty and witty
he’d be when he grew up! –

before he died.
But that would take
another slide
show. Oh, Bobby,
where did you go.

.