A Day in the Life of
Todd and me.
We were seven or eight.
We walked to the horsey-park,
We played under the bridge,
a trickle
of a creek ran.
A bad teenager came.
He pointed a gun at us.
"Put your head in the water," he said.
Todd and I were allowed
to go to the park, a block from our house.
We grew up as free-range children.
"Put your head in the water," he said.
That was something we couldn't do.
We had been told, specifically,
not to touch the water, it wasn't clean.
What to do?
I fled up the hill, crying.
Todd followed.
By the time we got home
we were on to other things.
Poetry by jim
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Written on 2022-06-11 at 03:24
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Alan J Ripley |
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