for the boys

it is cold outside
and i am on the floor of my old room
one cloth knee tucked in
one leg stretched out beyond the books and carpet
the boys are in my doorway again
holding twin beers
and leaning on opposite sides of the wood

One is seven feet taller
than me
with a chin like a good pork roast
and the long face of a lumberyard
his socks show, because his pant legs
are short, and his teeth show
because he is happy.




the Other is
looking up to him
and grinning
he is barechested
and showing the way muscles wrap around
his shoulder
that he has leaning against my door.
his curly gold hair absorbs all the light
and the room is a little dimmer
because of it.