John Grey

The boys in the yard are Daniel and Leo,
Running, wrestling, spitting, jawing...
they´re feeling out their freedom.
Sorry if they tread on the flower beds
you´ve spent hours seeding and weeding
but boys have to be boys more
than roses need to bloom.
And would you rather they left blood
on the sidewalk, theirs or another´s.
Or broke into homes, stole from the store.

Boys are just the odds you took having babies.
They´re brothers and that´s always been
a need for release.
A garden can go back to its source,
think on all that´s happened for ten years or so.
But human bodies must bruise together, fly apart.
They´re tossing a ball around now,
the harder the better.
Sure, they could bust a window.
But there´s a reason that the world isn´t glass.