Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Wherever Little Boys Go

The dog interrupts my writing.
She needs to go outside.
We stand at the top of the hill,
behind our house,
overlooking Cave Creek.

A little boy runs along the opposite bank,
a net in his hand,
his eyes downcast,
following the minnows
that dart, and weave, and tease.

I remember my son, now 15,
years ago on his birthday,
a net in one hand, a bucket in the other.
New rubber boots calf deep in clear water,
creating a detour for Cave Creek's minnows.

A crow brags from the tree behind me,
interrupting my remembering.
Some shiny treasure in his beak glitters in the sun.
The dog barks, and I turn back.
The boy is gone, already around the bend...

or lost; wherever little boys go
when they outgrow their fishing nets
and rubber boots.
When splashing through the silver ripples
is no longer their favorite way to spend a summer day.

10 comments:

  1. Wow - the perfect thing for me to read today. I have been watching videos of m son when he was 6 - and now he is 19! Where do those little boys go?!

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    1. I am right there with you! It seems like a blink, doesn't it?

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    2. I am right there with you! It seems like a blink, doesn't it?

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  2. Time flies by so quickly. Reminds me of the song Turn Around by the Kingston Trio. The song is about a daughter, but the growing up quickly and passing of time is universal.

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  3. Time flies by so quickly. Reminds me of the song Turn Around by the Kingston Trio. The song is about a daughter, but the growing up quickly and passing of time is universal.

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  4. What an enjoyable poem. I was there watching, knowing that feeling of remembering a little boy!

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  5. "The boy is gone" (sigh). Sharply observed, Lori.

    Nothing wrong with a periodic shift in writing focus, right, Lori? Hope it serves you well as the literary equivalent of a palate cleanser.

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  6. As a parent of two adult boys, your poem resonated powerfully with me. It feels like a truth revealed.

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  7. Love the descriptions you include! Your words always create vivid images. Where do little boys go? Sigh . . .

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  8. This is so sweet! Love the imagery. :)

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