Friday, November 13, 2015

SOLD! Red Ryder Rifle from the book, " In Tandem"

I wanted to paint this response to one of my favorite poems as if it were like an icon.   I hoped to reflect the things a child holds dear.


I remember the day my brother

put down his Red Ryder Rifle.

“I’m too big for kid games,” he said.

He stood, ducking his head,

exiting the door to our fort.

I pleaded, “Don’t go,”

but my brother was through the door.

Then taunted,

“what’s the matter- too big to play with me now?”

The voice of a child could not bring him back.

For my brother it was no longer a choice.

He shook off his childhood

as though the fit weren’t right.

I watched as he strode ‘cross uncle’s pasture toward giggling girls

huddled at the gate,

speaking in whispers I could not understand.

My brother understood.

He walked stiffly,

his creased jeans barely breaking line.

It occurred to me, he walked like my father.

The door closed.

For a moment I was sad,

and then I remembered the Red Ryder Rifle.

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