Forfeits

On the clear afternoons that were not too cold,

We played at marbles in the dooryard there

Before the house. Your childish face was old

With indescribable cunning, your thick hair

Sandy and coarse, fell over your freckled nose

With the dry look of hair in winter weather ;

Your hands were chapped and red with cold, your toe

Taut in your shoes, your thin lips pressed together,

As I recall you, bent to that crooked ring

Scattering the colored marbles in the center.

Often you took my agates, everything

Including the painful forfeit - the sharp sting

Of that hard thumping on my knuckles, sore

With many punishments, is with me still...

One day I cried with fear, and forthwith then

Was lost in a country you could never enter.

You scuffed the ground with your shoes, your eyes looked

down,

You dropped your winnings at my feet, and when

I turned I saw you trudging up the hill

Doggedly whistling toward the dusky town.