2nd Draft: Homeward Bound

[alonso ramoran]

Homeward Bound

When we did not need the rain
to break the sunlight into ataraxy,
rainbows flashed on dark concrete
with every step and pinecone kicked.

Autumn whispered clement truths
through needles of the little longleaf pines
we passed. Unquestioning, we would laugh
and I would shoulder your tired weight.

The anoles knew and guided us
to the scent of hidden mothballs
in their pursuit for another side, but we
were still just in the shade of branches,
smelling of the school day's sweat.

Overhead, endless empty blue
was calling us to form the clouds
from behind our windows, without us
knowing how your bruises began to bleed
beneath your days, turning them grey.

Raindrops streamed across the glass,
imbued with car lights red and gold,
that knew what the anoles knew; I followed
only with a finger, watching our time together
drift weightlessly across the sky.

1st Draft: Always Space

Beyond the fading ink of poets,
the blue between white wisps is yours. The sun,
unhidden like the toys we'd share, darkened
shadows where your brighter rainbows flashed
with every step I took and pinecone that I kicked.

Autumn whispered clement truths through needles
of the little longleaf pines we passed. Unquestioning--
you bruised your limbs on mulch and metal
and I would carry your backpack. Last we walked,
we laughed at the anoles, like we always did,
that we named after ourselves, skittering across
the sidewalk, your arm lightly slung around my neck.

Had we known sooner how it was your blood,
I would have fought the first idea of us moving,
but the last cardboard boxes were already loaded
in the trunk. The shear of wind on glass induced streaming
raindrops, imbued with the red and gold of car lights,
that knew the right way home; I followed
only with a finger--my head tilted sideways.

The ghostly scent of cheap chicken bites and pizza
wandered down those strangely patterned hallways,
and greeted me, surprised, like running into a friend
that wasn't you. Still, I stumbled, mute
and worn-out rubber smacking from my left heel
to linoleum all towards the classroom
where I was introduced then assigned a seat.

Stray bottle caps, packed with mud, littered the ground
like so many catkins beneath the oak, where I stayed,
watching lizards climb at recess. Yet, while everyone
was running and shrieking names I did not know,
                                    I approached, ball in hand,
                                    inviting you to play with us.


Original Draft: Always Space

Past the fading ink of poets, 
the blue between white wisps is yours. The sun,
unhidden like the toys we shared, darkened our
shadows wherein brighter rainbows
flashed with every step and pinecone kicked.

Autumn whispered clement truths with needles
of the little longleaf pines we passed, wearing
works of architects to dust. We laughed with unknown
trust at green anoles we named after our classmate,
skittering with others across our concrete path.

Raindrops, suffused with the red and gold of car lights,
also knew the way home; I followed
only with a finger--my head tilted sideways.

I was new and scarcely borne by strange linoleum,
stumbling over muted, stretched and worn out rubber.
I was introduced, then assigned a seat.

At recess, although everyone was running, shrieking,
our shadows being played with by the overcast,
                                                I approached
                                                and offered you a ball.