"Ask her if she still keeps all her kings in the back row."
And he recalls the innocent girl
who lined up her pieces
to hedge one's bets.

The youth,
energy and volume
brazen nature of the naive child,
where does it find shelter
when ribbons unravel
and the dress floats to the floor?

And the lingering thought
of sweet Jane,
maidenly neighbor
blameless in her caution,
"knocked him out"

Where is the chasm of adolescence
and when do we cross?