I almost regret to write this poem

for fear it may vanish

flicker away like Evan's flame

scared of the voices

that murmurs that carry its name

across the wind

whispers of That

but it only lives for a little

hiding in plain sight

waiting to be noticed

so it may slip away

one more time

only to be invited back

by the warm, orange glow

of the everlas...

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there once was a boy

good-hearted and innocent

worried not about the 

flecks of mud

clinging to his toes

thinking not of the

stinging scrapes

kissing his knees

worried not

save for the dwindling daylight

bringing end

if only temporary

to his fun

there was once a man

chased by the sun

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