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In the woods
That cavern that is.
So fortified with blood deep in our young cheeks on bright sunny days,
glistening eyes swimming
in backyard hose water
hot at the start but if you let it run,
it gently cools as the
rush goes by and your friends,
out of breath next to you,
hands on knees,
solar plexus breathing
on a cloudless day
tugging at your sleeve,
as if to say, come on,
we still have forever
to chase each other
through the stretching,
fevered green blades
interlocking with
blown dandelion daydream wishes,
patched tough-skin jeans,
our food stamp careless fashion
and the trees hung around,
using the brightest colors
you’ve ever seen,
they painted our portraits
with long steady limbs
on a canvassed sky
as we uprooted clustered rocks
nestled in rushing streams,
desperately trying to catch
the salamanders as they scurried away.
Ray Strickland
Nov. 22, 2023
