Crocodile is at the window
looking in with chin on thumb
Mr. Puddle spots a rainbow
holds his hand out to the sun
artifacts adorn the bedroom
papers strewn across the floor
Crocodile has lots of headroom
but will not enter by the door
fire engine turns a corner
chasing cat and ball and frog
engine wailing like a mourner
drives into a Lincoln Log
Mr. Puddle turns to see it
breaking free from timeless trance
though he knows he cannot be it
loves the notion of romance
now the room has grown much smaller
all the toys are put away
Crocodile is smiling taller
Puddle asks the croc to stay
declining by a shrug of shoulder
reptile thanks him with a grin
human now feels so much bolder
it’s not to say what might have been
it’s not to say what might have been
24 July 2006
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