Toys in a Field

Using the gun mounts 
for monkey bars,
children skin the cat, 
pulling themselves through, 
suspended in doorways 
of abandoned helicopters 
in graveyards. With arms 
spread-eagled they imitate 
vultures landing in fields. 
Their play is silent
as distant rain,
the volume turned down 
on the 6 o’clock news, 
except for the boy
with American eyes
who keeps singing 
rat-a-tat-tat, hugging 
a broken machine gun.