For Oscar

My little friend has gone away, To where God only knows, He might be off to yonder pond, To play where the cattail grows, He could be hunting in the wood, Tracking heavy scent, Pausing where a deer had stood, And marked the branches bent, Our paths will cross on `the other side`, Where we`ll rest by the old oak tree, And forget about the tears we cried, My little friend and me.

poem by James Mcqueen Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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