tall and thin like a pencil
whiskered baby
eats pop tarts
as the cartoons chase
on the children's channel

its cold outside
the first flakes
surprised to be here
hurry along down the street
my hands are cold

Where's he going today
this son of mine
from across the sea
On the ferry dad to
meet Liberty

You'll be cold
I said
wear a sweater
wear a coat
the mirror won he won't

Oh the want and the not want
to be the parent again
to guide advize
love and chide
call inside

and yet he and her
on the ferry
sail on the open gate to the sea
to meet liberty
without me

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