grass stains on your knees
are streaked with fresh scabs, still
red from a day roaming
the manacured bermuda rangeland.
every street a dare, the sun burning down
on asphault, a roadway of coals to be crossed.
crawling through the skeleton
of another house, the timber bones
will soon grow skin and be closed to us.
a decay we couldn't understand.
There were days trapped in cars watching the world escape.
Jealous of the discoveries made.
soon enough we are caged by more than the walls of school,
the narrow halls of life a play ground of indoctrination.
seasons erode until time is a very small thing.
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