Four sepia school boys in collared shirts stop and pose

in the afternoon clutter.

A white truck goes by, a bright sky shines

on the narrow street full of cable car wires, scaffolds, and banners.

Bobby smiles from the side of his flinty face.

His confident collar spreads wide,

his long neck goads and pesters,

his pointed finger demands unspoken things, asks unfortunate questions.

Jimmy peeks over Bobby’s sure shoulder.

His fingers cover his smiling mouth as he bites his dirty fingernails.

Only the small, dark caves of his eyes show over Bobby’s sheltering height.

Johnny grins under the shadow of his Coca-Cola baseball hat.

His school bag pushes his chest forward with weight.

His unripe ears stick out of the hat.

His eyes close partway from mirth.

Only Joey’s gaze doesn’t follow Bobby’s demanding finger.

He stands aside as the others coalesce.

He covers his ears against the scene,

childish elbows pointing out to the sides of his head like barbed flags.

His eyes are closed, his pinstriped jacket is open wide,

and the top half of the fly of his pleated cotton trousers is unzipped.

His teeth are white, gleaming like the sky,

not yet stained by the dirt of his world.