Solidarity

The hose is on
running clear into black
of garden earth.
Worming between
the pink Cortland stalks
of ripe rhubarb.
Four kids, our feet
disguised in mud
and horseradish.
Only the pale
seashell of toenails
giving us away.
A long pendulum dip
Followed by
Splattered drops
A sudden car trip in the dark.
Your blue hands
curled in the coffin.
A poem about a childhood adventure in imagination
Mother portions them out
one-eighth of a cup
in six mounds, cupped
Stealthy in bare feet
three bandits come.
Prize swivels high between
striped green leaves.
Mountains are earth, rebelling
Straining against dirt-ness
against gravity
A long pendulum dip
Followed by
Splattered drops
A sudden car trip in the dark.
Your blue hands
curled in the coffin.
A poem about a childhood adventure in imagination
Mother portions them out
one-eighth of a cup
in six mounds, cupped
Stealthy in bare feet
three bandits come.
Prize swivels high between
striped green leaves.
Mountains are earth, rebelling
Straining against dirt-ness
against gravity
A long pendulum dip
Followed by
Splattered drops
A sudden car trip in the dark.
Your blue hands
curled in the coffin.