boys in striped shirts

when things
were slow we'd go outside
and sit
on the porch.
when our legs were tired
from running
from kicking balls
across the yard,
when our mouths had no
more words to say,
our arms weary from games,
we'd go out
and sit on the porch.
the bunch of us.
the sun would linger
until nine or so,
then settle behind the buildings
across the ravine.
we were young.
boys
in striped shirts, short
hair,
dungarees.