Aaron in the Yard

Living these backyard blues in fear

this one kid grew up raging ‘round here

inside the cage of childhood

who wanted to rule the neighborhood

and see a new one rise at dawn—

and to make love in the trees,
run the beaches of the seas,
renewed in light but knocked-out not revived

and spread out on the lawn.

And every day we hear him say,

“who wants to come out and play?”

So beyond the fences of his fortress lot

he’d make that world his own

before the others got a hold,

before that darkening heart of his unfolded

on the dream that once was there

that could not be erased—

where the other boys chased him

up in space and autumn leaves were blown

and they could freely swear.

And every day we hear him say,

“who wants to come out and play?”

The lapse we had was the vacant lot

of power lines and wild brush,

a graveyard under its Moped mud

where the young fighters tasted blood

when pretending to be men.

But this boy’s beautiful spirit free
with his boyhood eternity

was spent out of the house but far from town

and without a single friend.

And every day we hear him say,

“who wants to come out and play?”

NEXT

--Farewell Frat Row