unfinished memories

Wiccan wonderings
Raking and sacking fresh mown playing fields
Filled too full for a five year old to even move
Gypsy Bob loads the big wagon pulled along the slowly moving edge
stop lad it's time to go dump that sack or put it on the wagon
The boy struggles to put the half sack on the wagon
and they're off racing towards the darkening sky
They pull under the railway bridge and stop as the clouds burst open
It's cold now and the boy shivers as he slips into the load
To watch Gypsy Bob pull a fire box out from under the seat
The water is dripping from his golden earrings
He's wet from canvassing the horse
in minutes his teapot steams as he pours in evaporated milk
The boy watches in silence as he fills a blue tin cup
They both sit on the seat with the warm pot between them
And Bob tells him of horses. horses with wings
horses with horns, and dragons. smart secretive dragons
that have to be tricked into revealing their knowledge about everything
Two pots later the rain stops abruptly Bob uncovers the horse
and they're on their way tomorrow we'll rake over the rest
then Friday we'll get what's left but we'll have to feed it then
so don't give them any on that morning
On the walk home from the farm the boy's thinking
Bob's really not that bad a guy but
why would he call mum a witch
and what did he mean about me being careful spelling things?
when he got home he asked mum and she smiled tightly
what'd you learn today son?
So for the next three hours he filled her head with horses
All kinds of horses and dragons' trickery
Filling in the tales that Bob had told with the details
he'd thoughtfully not told a boy so young