Peckers
The babble of youth
grouped in gaggles like pecking geese
pricked by the silence of the unabsorbed,
garbed in the flesh or cloth too large
or too small for their burgeoning minds.
Gangly limbs akimbo
intent, inward…looking outward
flung like a sling-shot’s stone… forward
brimming with all too human DNA.
Stilled… a pensive brooding deepens
bonds of childish chatter break as Mother Goose clucks.
Heads are stabilized by, held up by white-knuckled fists,
free-hands continually rove the groomed while grooming
furrowed brows knit scattered kernels of thought.
The soft-shelled few gaze glazed, dazed
contemplate the ground unfulfilled
ponds of thought mine the mirrored depth
the hooded eyes of the limb-crossed
capping a fountain of chi…
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