Entry XI – January

13920756_1717274185213804_5753064188689164609_n.jpg

A Barefoot Boy

James Whitcomb Riley

A barefoot boy! I mark him at his play —
For May is here once more, and so is he, —
His dusty trousers, rolled half to the knee,
And his bare ankles grimy, too, as they:
Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in array
Of feverish stripes, hint vividly to me
Of woody pathways winding endlessly
Along the creek, where even yesterday
He plunged his shrinking body — gasped and shook —
Yet called the water ‘warm,’ with never lack
Of joy. And so, half enviously I look
Upon this graceless barefoot and his track, —
His toe stubbed — ay, his big toe-nail knocked back
Like unto the clasp of an old pocketbook.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s