rick mitchell



Just a Different Game

A vapor light at the driveway’s
end was our certain
glow while the night
sky squeezed around
us and falling leaves dropped in kite
shadows on the damp grass.

I was always it
for Hide-and-Seek,
stapled to the moss
green bark, head against forearm,
counting forgodknowshowlong,
while everyone disappeared.

And they never played fair,
the bigger kids, or lied about
the rules, so I finally yelled,
“I quit,” looking for justice.
They smirked and walked away,
halos swallowed by the giggling darkness.

Rick Mitchell is a life-long resident of New York State, except for the four years when he lived in Nevada and attended the University of Nevada-Reno. He has three children (who take up all his time and spend all his money) and is an avid outdoorsman. He has been fortunate to find a receptive audience among the readers of many publications across the country. Recently, his poems have appeared in Skylark, The Concho River Review, The Wisconsin Review, and The Louisville Review, to name a few. His first book of poetry, Speaking of Seed and Night, was published by Chiron Review Press.


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take me home