Cap Gun Ammo

We dug our toy rifles  
into the ground, twisting  
packing their barrels  
full with dirt and pebbles--  
it was a better spray  
and harder hit, than  
the caps.  
 
Gunpowder tape, got laid  
out across rocks  
and we took turns with the hammer  
pounding each dot--  
 
Snap!  
 
Our fingertips blackened  
and temporarily numb  
from the hits and flashes.  
 
Back to the rifles
for more dirt-filled blasts  
into each other's hair,  
filthy feet and faces, hot  
July sun.  
 
Kathy's shrill whistle  
called us for lunch, eat  
on the porch, gobbling  
laughing--  
 
Then back at our "war"....  
 
It's just how it was, in the '70's.  
Toy guns, fingers bleed,  
so did knees  
suck it up--  
the beauty of it all  
when we didn't come home  
until dark.