His turn
LAURENCE LERNER
Not yet a man, although no more a child, He climbs the hill, and turns below to stare. The sun looks tired, the vegetation wild.
'Come down, or let me pass,' he said, and smiled; 'It's my turn now, it looks quite safe up there'; Although not yet a man, no more -a child.
Thousands have done it: scaled those rocks, and filed Patiently up the narrow path to where The sun looks tired, the vegetation wild.
I let him pass, and sat, resentful, riled, And yet admiring what those limbs could dare, Not yet a man, not yet : no more a child.
From where he stands the windless day looks mild; From where I sit cold shadows taint the air, The sun looks tired, the vegetation wild.
I watch his shadow and the view is spoiled. He's gone too far, too high—take care, take care,
You're not a man, not yet, you're still a child. The sun looks tired, the vegetation wild.
Previous page
