I barked beneath his window, "Come and play!" I scratched so lightly at his nursery door. I whimpered softly in the passageway— He never failed to answer me before. I've saved the willow whip his fingers peeled; The stick he used to throw is by the pool; The butterflies are waiting in the field Beside the grassy path that led to school. It is so long since last we romped and ran. How proud I was to guard his door of late! I've called to him in every way I can. There's nothing left to do but wait—and wait. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENING SONG OF THE THOUGHTFUL CHILD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD LETTER TO MAXINE SULLIVAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE FLAME LIGHTS UP by DAVID IGNATOW POSSUM SONG (A WARNING) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |