Bottles

Who takes interest in a man with no interests but bottles and turtles?
Who waits daily by the springs hoping to observe a hopeless cur like me?
He has better things to do, learn and travel, earn and love and live
And if he were not my son, I’d go back to Sicky Lane and I’d give him my advice

Sycamore Lane

I remember seeing him, feeding the terrapins, next to the fountains at Sycamore Lane

He noticed me watching him, seemed quite surprised, slowly he stood up and shuffled away

I wait for him every day, hoping he’ll reappear, next to the fountains at Sycamore Lane