As village boys daring do

As village boys daring do

The shadow boys, dank on the street-end night, 
garner down the unlit back-alleys of evening,
cold and ashes, the bonfire of their village days.
Kazoo-minded of the comb-toothed doors,
closed upon of the buzz of settled, 
mumbling, middling, maudlin lives,
they graze the footsteps of the ancients.

For sure,

they were stepping beyond the edge of darkness
in a bravado of daring do, 
a reincarnation of “we are The Boys”,
at the apogee of the bell curve of life.
Gripped by the scaffold of a raucous epiphany.

Toes on the top board, devil-may-care above a
torrent of testosterone, coursing through the canaliculi of their tiny minds; 
and momentarily they are mightier than the night.

Although, you’ll note, never too far from supper, 
or the wink of the scullery light.