Holly Day

In the Wee

John Deere silhouette
the tractor, poised for war
the sun on the fields.

 

 

Bottles

we used to break them on
the railroad tracks, especially
green and blue ones, exploding
into sparkly bits in the mud
between the wood slats,
the rusted rails

nobody knew how we could have got
cut up so bad, just from playing
outside -- no grown-up can understand

us splitting up our cache
chortling like bad guys
in bad movies, hunkered over
our treasures, pretending
to be pirates,
bright shards of sharp glass
in bare hands