Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Painting by Alfred Edelfelt
We fell from fatalistic trees,
the fresh fruit of our own escapade.
Giddy with ricocheted laughter,
Our green knees flexing
In long, shadowed strides.
Gatecrashing the gnat's dance.
Tall grass, pointlessly buckled
With sticks too blunt to cut air.
In lonely, ragged hedge-bound lanes,
Blessing ourselves with raised dust.
Brows, plastered with wet wisps,
Taunts and chants of tired boys,
Jokes that fell on stoney ground.
Playing out the day on tuneless feet.
Young goodbyes, casually gestured,
Caught in glances, held in a gaze.
Martin T. Hodges
Posted over on his site Square Sunshine
Listed as #8 over on Magpie Tales 72