Pondering America's Taliban Past
Even during the repressed fifties,
Couples would travel to Hawai'i and watch
Nubile women dance in grass skirts and bikini tops.
The wives, sexuality long buried,
In the privacy of their thoughts
(Last land of the free)
Would join the dance --
Tempting their mate while teasing the others.
The husbands, young again,
Would recall boyhood fantasies
Of exotic lands and willing women --
The tales of our ancestors.
They would return home
And make love in whispers lest the children should hear.
Naivety 112
Beside a field of stone,
The son of a farmer's son made wood.
With body mind and soul of steel,
His father rarely spoke a word --
Save for the necessity.
On a chill September afternoon,
The father was more talkative than usual.
He leaned upon his ax,
Turned to the field of stone,
And pointed toward the near side.
"Once when a boy, I was after cattle with Blue."
Spoke lips that only rarely spoke,
"Once I saw one. You never forget the eyes."
And the ax was raised again.
Now the son eased down his ax and asked,
"What happened to them?"
The father, not missing a beat of his work, replied
"They were all shot.
And nothing's the same anymore."
|
Submission Name: Pondering America's...& Naivety 112
