Evening In Jurrasica

[Kenneth2816]

When I was a kid, I'd walk out 
at dusk to where our street died
or ran on under alias through 
fields of corn that came right

up to the ditch, lay down on
the asphalt, letting it hold me
in the warm breath of its other 
skin, before tar pits, before
comets rained like foil confetti.

The white line split me at the crotch 
and I was half boy, half predator
hiding in the tall grass, waiting 
for headlights, lumbering  glow-
eyed prey, and it was a game
to not move, see how close
they came without rolling away.

Id stay until it was hard to tell
star from firefly until it blinked,
or I lost my nerve, broke cover,

ran to safety of the back-lit porch,
the screen door slam, 
and go inside to eat or be
eaten beneath the killing skies.

[Gracy321]

Hi Ken,
I love this poem. Brings back some memories, so I can relate to it in a slightly different context.
I've read it three times, but will return, as I've chores to do now.
Just wondering about "to eat or be eaten beneath the killing skies". Was it very hot? Not quite sure who or what eats N. And yet I like this ending, it's striking.
Best, Gracy

[Bernie01]

K---

alas, most flashbacks are boring, to me. the stories fall within a narrow range, but here, Wow.

new stuff. by a ton.

wonderful poem.


bernie

[Kenneth2816]

Bernie, always appreciate your comnents, thank you.

Gracy. It was a period of great predation, eat or be eaten.

[FranktheFrank]

Yes, a good poem
so true to life
we put pennies on the rail
and firemen would throw coal at us
we were so disappointed at their anger.

I this very well told Ken, very well.
I liked the asphalt and the going back int time just as children do
reality mixed with dreams, daydreams and wishful thoughts of adventure.

I also liked the danger that children touch at one time in their lives
without thinking about it, of course some cars drift of track and then a dead kid.

And the run home after adventure, back to a den, safe, warm, home.
always home.

[Kenneth2816]

Thank you Frank