AATB

As cool winds whistle,
the trees' limbs dance.
As day's light darkens,
alone, in trance,
it's all about the boy.

The thunder crashes
while lightning flickers.
Pessimism--
self fearing bickers,
it was about the boy.

A sleeping dream
too soon awakes,
stealing from boy
all that man takes.
...so still, without the boy.

Erect— in bed
alone again,
this aging man
finds he has been
nothing but a boy.