When a Little Boy Listens

His window was open on the way home from school. He blinked sleepily, heavy lids, and leaned his head against the side of the car, looking out.

“Do you know what sound I like in the world, Mom?”

“What?”

“When there’s a little wind and the leaves are rustling together, and you’re driving by with the window open.”

One thought on “When a Little Boy Listens

  1. Lefty Wright says:

    A poet who don’t know it . . . yet.

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