The Art of Tetman Callis

Some of the stories and poems may be inappropriate for persons under 16

The Art of Tetman Callis header image 2

Canute the Ninja

September 4th, 2013 · 2 Comments

A slender boy of about twelve
wears a black t-shirt
and black exercise pants with a silver stripe
up each leg like a cavalry trooper’s pants.
He has a stick about as long and curved
as a cutlass.  He stands lakeside
at the water’s edge.  Waves that reach
to his knees and sometimes up his thighs,
he slashes at them with his cutlass stick
as they come in, wave after wave after
wave after wave, they don’t stop,
he can’t defeat them, can’t drive
them back.  With each slash he
gives a high-pitched yelp, but even
these cries don’t stop the lake.

Tags: Oniontown · Poems · Words

2 responses so far ↓

  • 1 Averil // Sep 4, 2013 at 5:08 pm

    This could be my son. Except for the pants…

  • 2 Tetman Callis // Sep 4, 2013 at 5:45 pm

    He reminded me of my own son, too, back when my son was that age. There were a bunch of other kids on the beach that day, but he was the only one of his age and race and was playing alone. His mom was nearby.

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