Boys & Girls

There’s no space inside these places;
the cupboard’s small,
and I’m too tall to duck inside
and somehow hide.

The little boys are making faces;
I watch them smirk
and start to lurk to find me there
where it’s unfair.

I’m rather mad they make me squeal;
their fingers poke
and make a joke as though my scream
will crown them king.

I cannot say just how I feel;
I claim the swing
and softly sing as they walk by
all looking sly.

Sometimes there’s one who’s sometimes shy;
he slightly smiles
and girlish trials feel like they’re just
a girlish must.

The other boys are throwing grass;
he joins right in
the feuding men, for they all see
the girl in me.

They run for food and I am left;
the prickly grass
has made a mess up in my hair
and settled there.

I get back on the empty swing;
I might have fussed,
but I half blushed for just a while
to see him smile.


October 15, 2008