They Never Left: Stanza 2 Poem by gordon francis

As a boy
I thought of nothing
but boyish things,
never forced
to think of the future
always living
a day-to-day life,
studying,
maturing,
working in the woods
with axe and saw.
But oh,
the coal came
and then the oil
and
electricity
like magic.
My aching shoulders
became strong
swinging from Birch to Birch
fishing,
running,
hiding,
chasing after
Monsters,
Witches,
Killers,
Lovers,
all hiding from me,
cowering
starved-to-death little creatures.
I wiped them all out
with my strength
and determination
and power
and
courage.