The Contentment of Feral Children
Three boys down at the water’s edge
One is in the hull of an old wrecked boat
standing in the prow, hand over his eyes
looking out at the horizon for pirates.
Another is lifting an old pipe he’s found
from the ruins of the flour mill as if it were
a telescope, looking for faraway islands.
The other is digging something up
maybe an old wheel or the helm of a ship.
The heat and humidity are intense.
Suddenly they are running up the high
bank where the creek curves and the water
is deeper. Lifting off their tee shirts
they dive into the cool water.