By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall
1.
In my boyhood, to the Robin Hood oak
I tip-toed in those hot summer afternoons
With my three sharp arrows and my little bow
Craftily eluding the sheriff’s men
I softly whistled and waited, and then anon
From out of the sun-shimmering heat
From out of the merry magical greenwood
An answering whistle sighed through the air
Great skill at making a bow or a plan –
I was a favorite among Robin’s band
2
In my old age, to the Robin Hood oak
I slowly walked in lonely afteryears
Carelessly, for I was a baron now
With my ownership and my walking stick
I whistled and waited, and waited more
From out of the sun-shimmering heat
From out of the merry magical greenwood
There was only a silence, a silence sad
Little boys grow up, and then must disappear –
And that’s okay; the magic is forever here
LogoSophia Magazine 