Farm Boy

Farm Boy

I chased the girls from religion’s side
of Thunder Bay, two were pretty, freckled
and shy, but lacked the tears and make-up
about their eyes. Becky’s were big, blue and direct,
speckled as eggs in a mockingbird’s nest. Barb’s
were brown, dark and deep
like pools of river near Ninth Street. Both
used God and humor
as armor from me.
Richard Rensberry, author at QuickTurtle Books®

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