36 • LEGACY
BY AIMEE HUNT
If he were not a boy He’d be a raven The kind who sits on your window sill and You swear Sings you lullabies His feather-dark curls Those deeply dark eyes The color of earth If he were not a boy He’d be the sea Blue-hearted he crashes into Your soul Kisses you as violently And gently as the waves Kiss the sand
