once upon a time
there was a wooded scene
down by the creek
there you sweat an autumn evening
of hide and go seek
with the older boys
other fragments
you remember cold sun days
first base is a stump
second is a flatten card-board box
Billy’s jacket is third
he doesn’t need to wear one
if you hit the ball over those trees
it’s a homerun
no innings
no score
you play until the street lamp comes on
or your mom comes and gets you
other fragments
it’s not a good bike
but you like to ride it anyway
over to freedom park
there’s a pond there
where an old chinese man
with one leg
hunts for the giant gold fish
he’s saying he’s been searching his whole life
your fingers dig in a small brown bag of cold dirt
for a worm to bait your hook
you whisper to him
today is the day
he nods
and smiles
knowing it’s not
other fragments
you are coming home
and it’s late
you are supposed to be home before dark
but you were fishing
as the old man said
in broken English
by silence and water
you are becoming wise
but you can’t tell her this
so you spend the night
locked out of the house
on the porch you dream of whales
and warriors
other fragments
you only remember her first name
and a mole on the left shoulder
her hands are thin
with strong bone
she plays the vitula
you sneak out back doors
and climb through windows for her
on Sundays you walk across the tracks
to the other side
just to hold those hands behind the church
other fragments
you’re in the backseat
her hair is tousled
still sweating evenings
down by the creek
the woods are gone
cleared away
down to the earth
roots and all
other fragments
a sign posted on the side of a trailer reads
low-income housing project
no trespassing
you notice on the window
it’s beginning to drizzle
other fragmants
note pads half written on
still trying to work out
problems that happened
years ago
where you were
at one time before
this cigarette burns
like so many other things
other fragments
blind arms searching over quilts
childhood mornings
cereals and cartoon songs you never forget
but would like too
other fragments
. . .
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