Milliner's Boy Poem by Sophia White

Day by day he sat – a lone boy –
Lost - in the smooth face of the shop window –
Where his father made our hats.
He spoke little – that boy – and played less
He was – they say – a loner
A friend of birds – and cats –
I often passed the boys – at play
In the streets with their bats and balls
And in their shouting – my pulse beat fast
Their exuberance permeating my soul –
A drummer’s beat, a marching song
That race to win - to not be last
I’d want to be Best too – the Top
I wanted to Win – Beat – Face
To jump in the river - swim the other way
And then I would pass the boy – quiet
Sitting with his heels together – his eyes downcast
His face – not quite as gay
His thoughts elsewhere – I knew not where
Deeper – stronger – brighter perhaps
He did not need to speak –
I heard his message clear among the noise
The mongers – the wives – the dogs
My spirit stilled – Ambition turned weak
In the face of one so mild – so meek
And I would go on – down the street
Home.