Wendall

This poem just came to me out of the blue.  Sometimes I like these poems the best:

                               He didn't wait for the child
                                   to ask him one more time
                                     to tell the story of
                               Wendall.
                                     The story bored him, even
                                       though he told it  himself.
                                         So taking his keys in his
                                hand,
                                    he followed the familiar
                                        path to where he had
                                           buried Wendall many years
                                 ago.
                                      Yes, he now planned
                                          to tell the story
                                               of the boy to
                                  Wendall.