Just before June

Below drooping branches
And the sun’s intensity,
A gentleman of a certain age
Finds a suitable place
So he and his grandson
Would enjoy an afternoon
Just before June.

The young person’s cautious
Gaze at each blade of grass
Sparks the grandfather’s
Curiosity but innocently
He did inquire to trigger
the child’s precocious tendency:
“If we’re all humans
On the same planet,
Why do spiders seem to
Show respect for boundaries
While trust bestowed
With once perceived
Like-minded comrades, though
Distantly distinct and dearly
Treasured as friends,
Proves little more than
Disappointing upon fruition
Of actions and words lending
To what may be friendship?”

The child’s gaze slowly
Shifts from grass to roots
But without a change
In countenance so the
Grandfather stands aloof.
“Experience is little
At my young age
But friendship shouldn’t
Entail such burdens you allude.”
Then with a passing of a butterfly
His attention takes him swiftly.

Crestfallen by the truth
Of valid young words,
The grandfather reaches
For his old harmonica
To play an old but familiar tune.

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