A Severus Poem
During the summer
By the river
A small boy would sit.
Each week
He had a different book.
Sometimes they were quite big.
They looked quite old.
He was far too small
To be reading such
Big, old books.
However, he never appeared
To be struggling.
This week the book was
Forest green.
He supported the spine
Which might have split at any second
With his left hand
While his pointed chin
Was perched on his right.
His tatty black shoes
Popped out from under
His crossed legs.
Blue jeans
Was the norm.
Today his shirt
Was blue as well.
Slightly too large for him.
Aside from his big, old books
His hair
Set him apart
From other boys.
Dirty and black.
Trailing down his face.
His neck.
His shoulders.
He always
Looked the same.
Serious, concentrated.
Sometimes, he sat by the river
Longer than I did.
That was quite a feat.
Considering
I have nowhere in particular to be.
How could a boy
Of his age
Have nowhere to be?
No friends who called?
No appointments?
Always alone.
I took him for an orphan.
But where would an orphan
Get those books?
Just as the thought
Crossed my mind
He closed his green book
Slowly
Placed it gently
Beside him.
His attention was now
With the occupants
Of the next bench over.
An old man
Though younger than me
In a brown checkered shirt
With fluffy, white hair
Surrounding his bald head
Sitting next to
A tiny girl
In a navy blue dress
With French braided blonde hair.
Like I used to do for my girls.
She looked absolutely delighted.
As did he.
His hand extended in front of her face,
Spotty and shaking.
He held a silver coin
Between his fingers.
Almost too quietly
For me to hear
He breathed
“Now you see it.”
Made a fist.
His hand burst open
With surprising vigor
Revealing his white palm.
“Now you don’t!”
The coin was gone.
The giggling little girl
Was beside herself.
One skinny leg
Crossed on the bench.
The other
Swigging rapidly off the side.
Her cherry red clog
About to fly off her foot.
The man scratched his chin
“What’s that behind your ear?”
Her smile widened.
He put his hand to her ear
Then revealed the coin
With a flick of his wrist.
Laughing recommenced.
Both of them this time.
She cupped her hands
Over her ears
Checking for any more loose change.
Although their bench
Was shaded by trees
Their glee
Illuminated the whole area.
It was magical.
“Toss it in the river,
make a wish!”
She took the coin
Then scurried
To the riverbank.
I was ready to tell him
They made my day
When the black haired boy
Appeared in my view.
He approached the old man
Clutching the green book to his chest
With one hand.
The other
Stiff at his side.
He had an odd sort of expression.
Like Desperation.
Eyes wide.
Lips pursed.
He leaned forward
Whispering something.
The old man chuckled.
“Of course I am! They call me Mr. Wizard!”
The boy stepped back
Clearly surveying the man.
“Did you want to see the trick?”
The boy’s dark eyes
Narrowed.
“No, I don’t like tricks.”
His voice was low
Spiteful.
The old man
Taken aback
Gave the boy
A curious look
As he turned and walked away.
“Odd little fellow.”
The tiny girl
Galloped back to the bench.
“Come on, sweetheart, time for lunch.”
The two walked
Hand in hand
Down the path
Toward town.
The boy was back
In front of me
Now laying in the grass.
Hands behind his head.
His dark eyes closed.
His bony ribs
Visible
Under his slightly too big T-shirt.
I reached for my bag
Under my bench.
At the bottom
There was a sea of coins.
A nice sickle
Ought to do.
My knees burned
As I stood.
My walking days
Were numbered.
My riverbank days
Were numbered.
I stood at his side.
“Young man?”
He squinted
I held out the coin.
He sat up quickly
Hesitated
Then took it
After I reassured him
With a nod.
He looked at the coin.
Suddenly startled.
He looked at me.
Back at the coin.
Back at me.
He smiled
Repressing it a bit
So it wasn’t so big.
“Things are not always
as they appear.”
With a wink.
I was off.
A Severus Poem by JJmak
Chapter Notes: An elderly woman observes young Severus Snape.
Chapter Endnotes: Severus Snape is J.K. Rowling's character.