North Michigan Campground

Pegasus was easily the winner:
his cock spurled out,
thick and curved
and the color of liver.
It's a young girl's song
that lifts him
on his great white wings.

I, too, remember a girl
(I was only 10)
who ran in the rain
until her shirt was transparent, 
who, then, turned to mold
wet cloth like gold leaf
to her skin.

I had never seen breasts before
or a horse so close to the fence.
It was cropping grass. 
I could only stare.
as she reached small fists through the fence
and without pretense
grabbed the horse’s dark cock
in both hands.

The grey horse stamped
and, annoyed, moved off.
I can't remember whatever I thought,
but have not forgot
how, when she stood up,
she cupped both palms to her face
and began to lick
as she looked me direct in the eyes.

I remember how her nipples stood out, 
how erect I got.
She beckoned and ran off through the woods
to a shallow creek
where a swimming hole had been blasted. 
My name in those days was Jim.

Still, the roots of my body each down
to that pool hidden in woods, 
tree branches arching.
Once again, it invites me in. 
It’s the same old ache.