, , ,

the two toddlers are under

neath the a giant mossy log,

it’s twilight.  They

become, men, not knowing if

they’ve been with women, or have

ever wanted women.  There is wonder

,yea, in their eyebrows, as hair drips

from their scalps, first blonde, then

hazel, grey, and finally red.  Their fathers,

running at the moon, looking for

signs of footprints.