The World in Small Hands

Bullrushes and Wallpaper Pirates

When Boys Can Fly

Author/Adobe Express

Escaping to the hills after dinner,
we passed a forgotten orchard.
Two cats watched us
from beneath broken crates,
their eyes flicking with alarm.

My brother and I made our way
down to the bullrushes
and the spring encased
in a square of concrete.
Just visible in the half-light
was a lifeless rabbit
floating in the cold, transparent water.

Father was calling us home,
but I would not leave
until each of us touched her eye.
We both felt a pulse
play in our fingers.

Returning through the woods,
there were dry leaves
up to our ankles.
We made it to the shed
and took turns
jumping off the roof.

Father was calling us home,
but we found a bed of moss
and lay down to rest
as smoke from a hearth
diffused in the darkness.