Summer’s Youth” by Tyler J.

For Ray Bradbury


  This childhood’s Eve,

the firebugs chirrup

       on the windowsill;


       I lay listening in

       white foam sheets,

       like an air-tuft amid

       the ocean’s wake,


       and I lay listening,

       my ears turned inside-out,

       watching the full trees

       dance with the maiden wind,


       as all around my head

       goblin-shadows gather

       with  heat-forks and



       and I lay listening,

       thinking, “There is no

       such thing as oldness;


       it’s all an adult-lie,

       a trick Mom-Dad use

       get me to eat my broccoli.”