Emerging

While I was musing in my rocking chair, I started thinking about my childhood, living in a small city by the Mississippi River. In those days in that small city, one could look up at the stars and actually see them. Where I live now you can't do that. There is too much stuff in the air to let the lights of the stars shine through. But there were other things to do. Play was not organized by the adult world and children were left to their own to do whatever they could find to do.

Emerging

Lying on my back in the grass
wet from the night dew
looking at the Milky Way
wisps of lights up in the sky
wondering what they are.

A night hawk screams overhead,
bats dart after bugs I cannot see:
too young to think about it all
soon to be called into bed.

The morning sun is hot
bare feet on concrete
walking in grass as I can,
wondering what to do all day
while looking for my friends.

It's Summer, there is no school,
no homework or a time to study.
We have a few chores and the rest of the day
is ours to enjoy with our play.

Will we have enough players
for a ball game,
or we can get on our bikes to fish
on the banks of the Mississippi
where we can explore cast off
boats rotting on the shore.

Maybe we will ride into the woods
out of town to that old shack,
the one we found by Sugar Creek
across the railroad tracks.
Or ride to the ball bark
sneak in to watch the Gems play.

If we can't do any of that,
we can play mumbly peg
in the dirt by the street.
You know, I kind of wish
we were back in school

Paul Wolf 11/3/09