The Book
By Frank Peter Hermsen
The little boy sat lost in thoughts
Fishing in a puddle of oil
Smiling at the silverbirds
His legs fused with the soil
In seven years he didn`t move
Didn`t waste a thought to leave
Never spoke a word to anyone
Never gave try to flee
His mother`s laying next to him
Decayed for just a year
She died waiting for some fish to eat
He didn`t waste a tear
Page by page and word by word
Love and hatred, gold and dirt
A senseless try to save your life
When you are too tired to stay alive
He knows the name of every bird
That crossed his lifeline jet
And speaks to them without a word
But they have never spoken back
In a small black case beneath his side
He has an old and precious book
It`s buried in the burning sand
Not to be read even if he could
A book `bout thoughts and how to talk to birds
About the way to be solved from the soil
And includes some practical words about
Fishing in a puddle of oil