Farm Hands
Mornings I’d crawl down to listen to the boys feed the calves. John let them suck his fingers. He didn’t know they wanted milk. Josh ran. His mom called him rabbit. His wall jammed with ribbons. The boys slept in bunk beds. I heard them whisper about the west. Matthew dreamt of the other coast. He learned everything about surfing. I can see them older now, wading into the Pacific […]
Melancholy Hyperbole 