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it’s not that he had a plan,
not he,
as he ran along the edge of the land,
“catch me if you can, catch me if you can”
laughing at the sea,
“oh no, not me,
before you wet my feet i flee,”
teased he,
“catch me if you can, catch me if you can”
until from a darkened main her voice,
“supper, my boy, come home to me,”
made his choice
to turn from the shore, the sea,
“catch me if you can, catch me if you can”
said she,
“catch him if you can”
A.BRADY