smalll bony legs crook’d
over a driveway of shale
“here’s one!!!”
to a fossil, and our cousins
visiting…
“let’s go!!”
tossed aside, then
scampering off to that place
where rotting wood is our
breakfast – in our fort,
a few saplings
leaned to a trunk, first creep inside
“Snake!!!”
racing fast to the river,
there a high crossing keeps
out intruders and
Indian-style
we eat pockets of winesap
apples, ruddy green
red
like that one pesky leaf
floating downstream
throw a rock, watch it sink….
Press Send Poetry 