The poem that tumbled from my thumbs
Typed in iNotes like many before, sounded…
Like many before, trees and breezes and leaves.
I needed a different song tonight, not just tonight,
Maybe tomorrow too. Something with humor,
Something without yearning for a greater
Thing than what I could just pick up on a walk:
Like a rock or a stick or a berry. Rock becomes
Gold for the boy on his way to meet pirates.
Stick becomes sword for the same swashbuckler
Who gathers berries to make iocane powder.
Yes the song I needed tonight, sung by the boy
Who’d been hiding, and now, though happy
To be found and to be heard, wanted just
To play as boys are want to do before rules.
Part Two of a trilogy of poems written for this weeks Level UP prompts.
(C) 2020 Stephen Fuller