Shock

I don’t know why he waited there
with eyes all worried sizing me.
He’d run I knew eventually
off to his family, friends, some where
my camera couldn’t reach. We stare.
He’s wishing for a shady rock,
some plants or weeds, a builder’s block,
a hole that only good guys know.
Abruptly it was time to go.
I’m innocent, but triggered shock.

Here’s a picture of him.

Tags: Decima, poetry