The Boy at the Pet Shop

The boy down the street came by, day by day
At my shop window.
He stared down at the little cots,
Where my little babies slept in,
quietly,
sometimes not so much.
My shop shone pink and blue,
pastel colours, and matted fur
Baby cries and pretty purrs

The boy looked with batted curls
Face pressed against cold glass,
Palms sweaty and eager
against invisible barriers
Much to my dismay (those handprints!)
Months torn away
And babies grow
The warmth of June left, and came rainy days
Where damp-pressed skin battled against humid winds

And one day as I closed shop amidst a sleepy thunderstorm
I saw him again.
He was wet, translucent uniform
And little frame
Backpack left aside
As he stared at Foo Foo
I locked up, and I came over,
a gentle hand ready to wave
a practiced smile displayed

And I chimed, "Why hello there young man, not going home in this heavy rain?"
He looked at me a little,
Face but a coy smile
Beady eyes with fond memories.
"I will go back soon"
I pressed on, as curiosity got the better of me.
"Why boy, why do you always come look at my animals? Do you want to ask your mummy or daddy to get you one?"
He then said, "Well, they say if I wished hard enough, my efforts will pay off, so here am I..."
I wanted to say more, but I wasn't a generous one,
so I bade him good day and left him to his own devices.

But ain't him barking up the wrong tree
Where we never perform charity
and it's all but wasted trips?

For if you wish upon a star,
It may one day fall,
But it glides above your head and over the horizon
to yet another beautiful dream.