Sunday, January 07, 2007

Wild Children

There are wild children in the park,
roasting swans and pigeons
over rose bushes and ornamental shrubs.
They steal food from the market stalls.

The young knight rode into the park
and at the sight of his shining armor
the wild children fled like starlings.

He doffed his armor
and rode with his sword at his side
and the wild children drove him away with stones.

He went naked and danced
at the bonfires of the wild children
and they followed him laughing around the artificial lake
and passed through the jasmine-covered gates of the palace.

What waits inside?

A company of heavy-armed knights
with swords thirsty for the blood of children.
A palace burning under the merciless light
of torches in the hands of children.
A table spread with green cloths
and laden with bread and meat and apricots.
A stern school with bars on the windows
and hard-ruled lines on the chalkboards.
A shady lawn of soft grass
and mossy pillows for tired children to sleep on.
A palace whose empty halls cry out
to be filled with echoes of laughing children.

Only he knows, the young man dancing
naked at the head of a crowd of feral children
half-cat, half-fox, half-savage.

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