NEW WORLD
We march onwards, my brother and I.
His freckles grow more noticeable,
my skin a darker shade of pink
as sunlight breaks through sinewy clouds.
Cabbage white butterflies mingle
with the falling flecks of blossom
and lemony scents fill our nostrils.
Crashing through the gates of foliage,
our steps quicken at the sound
of oncoming waves, our footprints heavy
on the embroidered ground. We’ve made it
to the beach, a cool breeze breaking
through the knotted green. The sea
is sighing, soft and gentle,
its fingers playing on the shore’s keys.
Aqueous sunlight turns each pebble
into a mirror. Wind-like, we act
as spies, searching for the villain’s lair,
hide behind great rocks with carved faces,
stone angels watching the horizon
in immobile guardianship.
A baby seagull, speckled brown,
totters on a stone and then takes
to the air with its older sibling.
Moving past the boulder-heads, we wait
for gunfire, take down some henchmen,
my brother’s fiery hair a pyre on shore.
We reach a hollow cave, imagine
that there could be a dragon
exhaling deadly fumes, its eyes
two jewels in a brave new world,
a world where we are valiant heroes.
There are just walls of stone and clay.
I run my hand across the cool surface
and we sit on the ground, wondering what
people would say if they saw us now,
pretending we belonged on screen
or in a book. But there’s no intrusion.
Just our ceaseless wonder as we wait
for the lingering sun to set on this.
