the home schooled kids
in the neighborhood always seemed
a little different.
off, somehow.
they were strangely alien
amongst us ragmuffin
public school kids.
there was something about
the look in their eyes,
the size of their ears, or heads,
the clothes they wore.
it was almost as if they were
Amish.
they seemed to be learning,
book wise, but were a few
years behind when it came
to what we were learning
behind the school after
the bell rang. they rarely were
in any trouble.
going down the woods with
betty jean, or spray painting
the side of a building
with graffiti.
they were good kids, not yet
infected by what
the world brings, but if you
threw them a ball, the odds
were that they weren't going
to catch it.
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