little boy playing in the tasseled field
pretending to be a captain or uniformed colonel
without serious thought darkening his nocturnal
no deeper idea about an older living or the younger dead
an all American global blue white and red
carrying his cardboard captain's shield
guaranteed invulnerability to anyone left behind
or under the super moon on a starry night
and all without an urgent sense of fright
just sidewalk ghosts sneaking around
oblivious to the very tender, fertile ground
where all blind people are eventually consigned
there was a crack of the bat and a flying ball
he spun and went over the nearest pile of hay
he simply had nothing of importance left to say
he tried, but it was considered obscene
light years of urgent words and what did it mean?
he's still playing like the happiest boy of all.
I use words to deepen my observations. All of the following works are © copyrighted. They are the intellectual property of Greg Hoover. If you or anyone you know is interested in licensing one or more written works for use in a compilation, as lyrics in a musical work, synced to video, or some other use, feel free to contact me about an arrangement. But if not, assuming you are curious and literate, simply reading for pleasure is encouraged.
Cotopaxi, Ecuador (summer 2012)
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Jessica in Madrid, Spring 2006

daughter is empowering herself
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