THE OLD BOY by Andrew Buxton

The old boy’s gold all year

Without its bloom its missable

Missed nothing the old boy dear

The southern moss, iridescent green

The old boy’s shining light

It clings and crawls and scratches life

So once, the old boy’s plight

The bark it litters the forest floor

The old boy’s rubbish lean

Providing nutrients to the earth and soil

Like the old boy sight unseen

The alluvial rocks are worn but strong

On the old boy’s shoulders ride

There is no life there but fire once

The old boy’s ebbing tide

But alas, the forest’s omnipotence 

Mirrors the old boy’s life’s perfection

It sings, it heals, it grows, it dies

The old boy’s love is my selection

But when the little seed is dropped 

The old boy is there in keeping

Please soil, sun and water bring

The old boy’s son is weeping

The bridge, the only artificial thing

False nothing the old boy’s plot

We must make it to the other side

Troubled water he fears not

The sun, it’s draped in clouds right now

But the old boy’s warmth shines through

I love you granddad with all my heart

Hope I can be an old boy too