George Perreault

eight thumping the stanchions
morning full with slurp and hiss 

steaming white poured 
into battered steel cans 

holstein hybrids let out to pasture
their leavings shoveled and dumped

until the hollow space aches
for neighbor kids of an age 

when now and then maybe yes
one culled from either tribe

though boys more likely in a barn
and what’s learned upstairs

hay motes in sunbeams 
the turns a boy might take


then time’s a summer or two
after such grooming

he’s acquired some hows 
if not why some in the woods

slid into a look better leap 
sprint to evade 

though he’d keep 
trying the dark inbetween 

with sometimes his clothes
hidden near side of the brook

else how could a boy be so
electric alive as only when prey

how deep every shouldn’t he
sometimes get caught

George Perreault has published in journals and anthologies in the US and alswhere,