Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Boys in Summer

In youth, summer days
Stretch as interminably
As the bright open sky
Horizons so distant we forget them

Wading through dawn’s
Amber and gold streaks, the grass dewed
I came upon a stretch of sidewalk
Palpable with the life of boys in summer

Scrawled in char from a burned stick
Were three simple words, poignant as
Kilroy was here.
They read, simply: Hi i fart.

Strewn nearby
Lay an empty pudding cup
Further, a discarded squirt gun
Beyond, a smattering of bang snaps

I smiled as I thought of those
Wild boys still tucked into beds
Exhausted from the day’s play
And possibility

Moments later, tears sprung and my heart caught
There on the path was a broken robin’s egg
It’s blue undeniably beautiful
It’s fragility evident

We rarely notice a robin, commonplace as they are
But a robin’s egg pulls us up short, beckons
Oh, sweet boys, full of wonder and curiosity
How soon before you too are broken open


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