Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘growing up’

 

 

 

The boy who has been gone for a week

approaches his mother at the curb

 

outside the school. Did you have fun?

she asks, and he gives her a lopsided

 

smile that doesn’t even pretend to be cool.

His cheeks are sunburned and his hair

 

is sun drenched and his shoes are mismatched

and dusty. He is happy. Oh yes, mom, he says,

 

and he falls in her arms and she holds up

his tired weight. It is August and the leaves

 

have already begun to yellow on the hill.

He tells her of herons, how they flew at sunset,

 

their wings backlit and shining. Then he reaches

in his backpack to pull out a rock, a gray flint

 

in the shape of a heart. He slips it in her hand

and doesn’t move to leave her. They stand

 

on the curb long after all the other campers

have left with their families. All around them,

 

the scent of rain about to come, the sound

of men with their hammers building

 

something new.

 

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

at seven

she likes to sashay

for the mirror—

already her eyes see

her self as if they belong

to someone else

Read Full Post »

Dust it was, today
the road where once
we smudged each other with mud.
How little then we knew
of how messy things can be.

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: