Cousins Poem by William B. Watterson

We sat in a weathered shack
Secure in our adolescent dreams,
Playing at cards and life.
Paper-winged cicadas sang
In the white pines,
While bullfrogs droned
By the gray-green pond.
Catfish broke with a splash
The shining mirror, and sleek
Water snakes wove their
Slimy way through velvet scum.
We, defiant, stood
Upon youth’s proud promontory
Shouting, “Life, we are ready!
We hear your beckoning! We come! ”
Bold but blind,
We could not see the chasms then,
Nor feel the damning curse
Of a misplaced trust.
Deaf, we could not hear
The shutting door,
The fumbling fingers,
The cold, calculated click,
Or the sickening, muffled roar
Of a shotgun blast
Shattering bone, and brain,
And lives, and lives, and lives.

(circa 1980)