The Stone Wall

I look at the wall now nearly forty years later Wrapping around the curve of the driveway A place we played many times A common ground between his house and mine. The summers of childhood pass much too quickly Without any comprehension of who or what we are Or so it seems, I can still remember moments Inside that four-year-old head. Once, my friend and I had an argument of some kind I can't recall the what or the why Isn't that the way it always is, those Petty things don't mean much in time. I do remember, caught up in anger, rushing Inside the garage to find some weapon with which to Throttle, he doing the same, rushing to his house Both of us meeting for a showdown in front of The Wall. One step back for momentum, then charging with Brooms raised high above our heads, our faces Contorted in ghoulish fury, ready to strike like Zeus (cleaning house) when suddenly— We stopped at the very same instant. Seeing one inside the other, the absurdity of it all A snicker at first, then a chortle Growing exponentially into a wild beastly guffaw Snorts blasting through our noses, ravishing The quiet clean-cut lawns, dignified biddies Red-faced at the bald effrontery of our delight Ah, had we been but older we might even have Flipped that proverbial sweet bird of youth! We never fought again, he and I Best friends understand, in some split second of Strange childish wisdom, we knew what governments, nations And most power-driven men and women never learn. Until it's too late. No, you won't find any blood upon our wall. It holds the Earth. A convenient place to sit and rest when the sun beats down A place of fond memory, of times well spent, of people Solid as rock. ~ Laurence Overmire