A last rock-skip hurlstorm (crazing river-glass)
the closest they ever were.
snared and split some fire-supper cooked on sticks.
By dawn the older brother took to chucking
what bottle-frags he could find and crud-oysters across.
The (high-pitched) younger blacked our waters
with a yowl.
Lord the sound such as rose from him
Hadn’t they clung tooth and claw to branch and bark.
—Came a man (and truck) to take them off.
•
some say somewheres upcountry,
Where it was they landed (why) nobody not them knows.
just how they humped and grubbled home
what road they’d graved what woods criss-crossed
which creeks which trains they’d hopped who helped.
Came safe home sure but blank as houses.
Came safe home —as him —and him.
—as (evermore) not them.
Source: Poetry (April 2011).