Bobby Offerdahl

I don’t know how we got there Or why they let us play that day, But some of the details are still clear Of the fort they built out of Fallen trees and pieces of dry rot tarp fashioned like a tepee. It was dark inside and despite the dry dusty heat It still smelled

Trying to find solitude In red and yellow Tumbling fall leaves And a kite flying breeze Blowing in from the west. It’s the fifth year I’ve been on my own Since that fateful day When I nearly never saw This season anymore. Time spent in utter shock As the whistling winds of fate Swept my