You find them at the base of a tree sometimes: A pewter knight or a plastic Robin Hood Or a marble lost in the long-ago Turned up among the weeds by shifting roots
In the leafy silences of summer a little boy Practiced the arts of magic and manliness With Robin Hood and the pewter knight searching for a jewel To present to their Lady Marian
When he was a little older the boy walked to town To the bus station, and off to a distant war A jewel sacrificed to the blasphemy of the State You’ll find his name at the base of a stone
But the pewter knight and the plastic Robin Hood And beautiful Lady Marian still wait for him