Tonight's Poet Corner: The Paleolithic Age
The Paleolithic Age
by Belinda Roddie
Below the setting sun, you'll find
two fathers sharing wine beside
a campsite, where the tents glow white
and near translucent in the light. One
father thinks about his son, the other
pondering over his wandering daughter,
not realizing that behind the trees,
the two youths have made their rendezvous
in leaves and shrubbery that's shrunk
from drought - standard abuse from
the early summer, which extends its
fingers long enough to force the older
men to wipe the offending sweat from
their protruding, Neanderthal brows.
by Belinda Roddie
Below the setting sun, you'll find
two fathers sharing wine beside
a campsite, where the tents glow white
and near translucent in the light. One
father thinks about his son, the other
pondering over his wandering daughter,
not realizing that behind the trees,
the two youths have made their rendezvous
in leaves and shrubbery that's shrunk
from drought - standard abuse from
the early summer, which extends its
fingers long enough to force the older
men to wipe the offending sweat from
their protruding, Neanderthal brows.
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