Looking at you recede in your mom's car
you move away with great celerity.
Impaled is this disjointed, little heart
because I'm losing my one best buddy.
It looks like you're waving me a goodbye
although it's too far for me to confirm.
At nine years old we've both shared our fun times
but those moments churn the heart as I'll learn.
Sometimes, I pine sadly for that best friend
to return to here: my neighborhood school.
Years gone I still feel we're here, I'm certain.
The nine year old you and me playing 'ball.
I want to know where you've gone away now.
It's been long, friend, years are so much to count.
It's "him" isn't it? - Kevin