Friday, April 6, 2012

NaNoPoMo #3

This is *kind of* a true story. As a kid, I tagged along with the boy scouts since I had two brothers, and my dad was a troop leader. I always felt like I was one of them, sort of. Anyway, here's a little poem about being a 5 year old girl, in the woods with a bunch of wolves ::ahem:: I mean boys.


I sit around the fire with the boys,
and hold my stick above the flame.
I let my marshmallow burn
to hear them laugh, to stop
their talk of guts, how, while hiking
they’d come across a rabbit,
torn to pieces in the brush.

What do you do when lost in the woods?

my father asks the troop. They talk of earth,
of footprints, broken twigs and stars. A language
I can’t understand. I clutch my rabbit’s foot,
dyed red and on a chain.

Which one’s the northern star?

The troop leader asks, his eyes
on me. I shrug.

Dunno.

and point my finger towards the night sky
at any old star, one of thousands
in the milky night.

A boy scout grabs my arm
and guides my finger towards
the brightest star.

There, he whispers in my ear,
breath tickling against my neck.

A june bug lands on my knee,
drunk on the light  we make.
I shriek, and the boy scout lets my arm go,
pinches the bug between his fingers.

I watch him toss it to the flame,
catch and grow still.

Girl, how are you going to find
your way home?

2 comments:

  1. Hey, I remember that rabbit's foot...

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  2. Hey Guzz! :)

    Oh! Yep. I loved that lucky bunny foot. If I remember correctly, I lost it in the woods and YOU found it for me! Such a long time ago... I can't believe you remember, too. This poem was good fun to write, though here is only the 1st draft.

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