summer fields
by Ed Higgins
we ran that afternoon
across Bayshore lanes
into green blooming fields,
beyond all those
quickly passing eyes,
helping each other
down a graveled bank
that edged tall grasses
topped in yellow mustard &
skimmed by meadowlarks,
that scolded, yet never told
as far as we knew--
although they saw well enough.
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Author's Note
An older poem recently published in Ayris, an attractive journal published out of the New Hampshire Institute of Art. A mildly loss-of-innocence piece, I suppose--& somewhat autobio.
Other stories by Ed Higgins
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Oh, this brought back memories. We had to be sure to wash our feet when we got home for fear of our Mom's figuring out that we were swimming in that muddy old pond again!
*
"that scolded, yet never told." I liked the simplicity and innocence in this.*
I love the ending (and form!).*