Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Picnic

Live blue spray kicks against the mountain.
There is a lesson here at the creek, boys
& girls like handfuls of gladiolas arrange

a camp fire, rummaging in the bush for flint,
paper, kindling to smoke out Apache. Geronimo!
The Lone Ranger, high-ho Silver, away!

Roundup time. Cowboy suits flash, arrest the sun.
White shoes hang in trees like cockatoos
nibbling seed pods. Frogs serenade from the

bank, their voices deeper than night. The boys
heighten noise playing bandits. Stagecoach.
Kids playing shotgun in this watery world,

scooping up miniature forts in river mud, until
the myth becomes cannonball fodder. Cazzam!
Shoot the enemy. No enemy, no feathers dancing

only people on the shore, waggy dogs, blue boys
playing tag, shovelfulls of laughter. Hello,
goodbye whisks across the water like smoke.

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