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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3806 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention A Child in the Dark, Alone Gary Blankenship In bed, alone, I imagine I shrink to the size of a grade-schooler though my hair still sheds, back and knees still ache, and I still itch between my toes a small boy barefoot, shirtless in torn denim shorts, a Red Ryder hat on his head, pretend revolver in his hand, runs across the pasture blackberry and nettle avoided, but not thistle cut ground close by a heifer’s greedy teeth, the boy’s foot as full of needles as Grandma’s favorite pincushion As sleep nears, I imagine I expand back to the size of an old man, that is until you climb into bed and the narrow mattress crowds me against an edge a small boy barefoot limps towards home, house and aid a barn, fence, field distant make-believe forgotten as another needle burrows in My itch, his pain, my fear I will fall, his worry home’s too far away, keeps us restless through the night, beneath August’s hot sun |
