As children we came up here
pretending to be soldiers with our
green plastic helmets and long sticks.
We built a camp beneath the trees,
dug down into a hovel and covered it
with corrugated iron that had been
dumped in a skip.
We lived here that whole summer.
Holed up, waiting for an invisible enemy
or other kids on bikes.
Near the end of the holiday
a farmer spotted us and reported us
for trespassing.
We were coming back to kill him
the following year
but by then our appetites for war
had been replaced by other attractions.
Mal Foster
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-summer-of-adolescence/
