A path established long ago
Invites us boys to follow down,
Set up a new encampment here,
On this brown bank of Caster's creek,
And brown our bodies head to toe,
Pretend to be the other's girls,
In tents we've pitched as evening falls,
And constellations fill the sky.

Two brothers and the rest of us
Find arrowheads and smoke grapevines
The morning after we've entwined,
Throw sticks and rocks like savages--
A Saturday to be alive,
Unlike the sons on Asian hills.