In fixed stares at the torn dark dirt
In snares caught and combed
We fought the frozen ponds
Hiding the slow moving cold blooded fathers.
We wanted to know what the green
Waving arms under the ice glaze had to say
We wanted to know why maples tattooed
By pocket knives
feared the brown lake’s edge.
In later years holding girls with tears
Our eyes went dark
To the wonders by the water
Clutching the firm hips
That served as architecture for wide pupils
And the soft down blown on cheeks
Reeking of peppermint gum bought from colorful racks
In Mr. White’s store. There were faces we failed to see
Under the ice that clung to our lids all day.
We thought we saw jewels in black mud
We were fighting rules in the fake flood
Of the school’s herd of barking sheep.
We ground futures in to bread
We found sutures in our bed
And the scars still
Sing arias in our ears.
Forty years later
Now every glass of wine that we drink
Is a brass layer in the link
Between the numb fence
And the flash lit glimpses we see in the sink.
The hated un-felt and un-thought of moments
Tinkled like sleet around us.
Joshua Kight 11/19/09