Walks home from school
were often interrupted
by rock fights
with kids from across the Bessemer Ditch

Earth stones were hurled
over the drainage
whizzed by our heads
slicing the air
and collecting the ghosts
of those who drowned
in that endless arroyo

As rocks flew by our heads
we could smell the decaying souls
like the gust of wind
that hits you in the face
when strangers
pass by

We heard their screams
of yearning to not let life die
to not grow up too fast
to not hurt our neighbor
we turned are heads

Shhhhhhwwww

Shooting stars of forgotten dreams
vanished into the space between breaths
my aim is not what it used to be

We were so brave
confident in our accuracy
fearless in our perpetual forward motion
hoping we could get close enough
to drop the rocks
and pound it out
where has my courage gone

Warped by age
and smacks in the face
with a ringing in my ears
the rocks were replaced
with boxing gloves
and then carpenter pencils
and now ink pens

A new constellation is born

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