|Public domain image courtesy of Wikipedia|
(Scene at a baseball diamond)
Her hooked nose stared prominently down
to her - grandchildren?
She was a young 80 or an old 40.
Hard to say.
She wore a vagabond hat like in the “I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For”
Two little boys ran round in the grass.
They didn't see her mortal shell, the total rejection of classic beauty.
They were not frightened.
They were not appalled.
They just played and ran and made steps in the grass.
The witch's man (warlock?)
Sat on the bleachers smoking and staring off into some distant calamity.
One could almost read his thoughts.
He was much younger: Face obscured under baseball cap.
The smell of booze is also like smoke.
Somewhere on that field an invisible game was being played.
Probably not baseball; there were not enough players.
Nor was it frisbee or any sport involving a ball or a passable object.
As far as one could tell there were no points to be scored.
Just time to pass between two adults with different hats
And two little boys without.
Copyright 2011 by Craig Boehman All rights reserved