Boys Becoming Men

BOYS BECOMING MEN
December 8, 2010

I looked around the classroom
at all the boys when I was ten.
The little boys with grubby nails,
fingers fumbling a fountain pen.

I saw them with their lunch boxes,
Their Wagon Trains, and Green Hornets,
and wondered if they'd make it
on to manhood with no regrets.

So many had their pockets full
of Crayola crayons, marbles, too
and rabbit's feet and bullfrogs;
Bazooka bubble gum to chew.

They styled their hair with Brylcreem,
a few wore short crew cuts
which showed off all their freckles
and/or their ears as big "wing nuts".

Their black school pants hung just above
their mud-caked Buster Browns
or silently, in Red Ball Jets, they
slunk 'round the ol' school grounds.

I tried to picture them in wingtips,
would they ever become men?
I wondered as I watched them
traverse the corner fen.

They played Beach Boys on their transistors,
watched Roy Rogers on TV.
I tried to picture them as grownups
and wondered if they would ever be.

Now, looking back from where I stand
I realize at last
that yes, indeed, those little hands
have outgrown their youthful past

and have somehow become husbands,
fathers, even grandfathers, too
that shave and go to work each day.
I know all this is true

because I, myself, have outgrown
that little girl of ten
who used to look around the classroom
at the boys becoming men.