ROBBING (child) HOOD

The high points of trees topple
and crack like ice
piercing the ground at our feet
We crash through the thickets
slashing our willow bladed swords
We are the fearless Robin Hoods
making our camps in the burnt out bodies
of the broadest oaks
that were split down the middle
by jagged lines of lightening
that lit the pupils of our Grandmothers eyes

The sheriff's dogs are sleek and fast
they follow their noses
our reckless scent is easy vapor
for their developed sense
These dogs have human hearts
but we are young we out run them
tearing open the calves of our legs
on the barbwire
the rich sticky soil cakes our boots
the baying is closer
our lead footed legs granting us
the speedless grace of astronauts
Our lungs are dry and painful
we throw our sticks into the river
chasing them until they tangle
in the distant reeds

now we have crossed to a safer side
away from their fangs lathered with spit
Through the meadow we walk
puffing the heads off dandelions
firing arrows of wild barley

We are content and fearless again