playing in the backyard

a poem written quite easily about a simple event between me and my two boys.

I wanted to yank the children
back from digging
I was watching their clothes

but unpredictably
they suddenly became archeologists
talking about bits of roof and artifacts

they demanded a ladder
and milk
(to make them strong)

they informed me
they might have to spend the night
if it's a house they've found

I get the milk
(in plastic travel bottles)
caught in the glare of their smiles