22-10-04

A Barefoot Boy (James Whitcomb Riley)



A barefoot boy! I mark him at his play --
For May is here once more, and so is he, --
His dusty trousers, rolled half to the knee,
And his bare ankles grimy, too, as they:
Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in array
Of feverish stripes, hint vividly to me
Of woody pathways winding endlessly

Along the creek, where even yesterday
He plunged his shrinking body -- gasped and shook -- 

Yet called the water "warm," with never lack
Of joy. And so, half enviously I look
Upon this graceless barefoot and his track, --
His toe stubbed -- ay, his big toe-nail knocked back
Like unto the clasp of an old pocketbook.

 
Painting: Maiden Voyage by Tom Sierak





22:13 Gepost door Birdie | Permalink | Commentaren (0) |  Facebook |

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