Sunday, July 17, 2011

Boy's Summer
When I was a boy I’d hide in tall grass of wonder
Crouched low on muddy knees, my spying eyes would see:
Elephants lumbering; their trunks held high
Those eyes of mine proud as the lion’s main
Ears alerted to the tiger’s yawn,
A plastic helmet I donned, a soldier’s rifle made of the same
I’d take aim at enemy troops, guerrillas behind near trees
Outnumbered I held a steady hand
Then as always a dwindling light as a mother’s kiss:
“Come home my only boy.”
In hungry retreat I’d leave my helmet behind, my gun at my feet
Soon I’d know a maternal whisper
My empty stomach filled with her warm meal
In the bath that night I loved our tired world,
this rustling heart in tall grass
My mother still proud, I think, of her wondering boy

3 comments:

Old Ollie said...

Children are the wise ones.

Great piece SC.

Human Paradox said...

Like a warm memory SC, kind of brings me back to the place of original wonder.

Fisheye Lens said...

I remember those covert operations in the backyard after school and before suppertime. Nice memories SC.