Peter Pan Lives in Omro
We went for a drive one day
in the pouring rain,
just me and my best friend.
We drove past an open field
with a team of guys playing football,
“we should ask to play”
my best friend said.
So we stopped.
A bunch of hicks with face piercings and colored hair.
They were so cool to me.
“Yea, you can play!
I’m Peter Pan and these are my Lost Boys.”
Black stringy hair, wet from the rain, stuck to his forehead.
Eyebrow pierced twice,
Tongue pierced,
Home-made Peter Pan costume.
The rain subdued.
Mist formed droplets on our noses and cheeks
as we played two-hand-touch football
in the rain with total strangers.
The ball slipped through our fingers
Skidding across the slick lawn,
and then I scored a touch down.
A pass from Peter Pan and a sharp cut right through the end zone.
The Lost Boys cheered and gave me high fives
Wendy had just beat the boys
at their own game.
I tossed the ball back to the quarterback, Peter.
My friend and I had smiles stretched across our beaming faces
and so did the Lost Boys.
We said our goodbyes
giving out one last set of high fives
and as we looked back down the road
the boys had huddled around Peter.
Peter Pan,
the boy who never grows up,
the boy who dyes his hair black,
the boy who throws touchdowns in the rain,
the boy who lives in Omro.
