Where have all the whistles gone,
gap toothed, vain blow from bulbous cheeks,
the early learning, testing airs,
when suction breath and hollowed lips,
caused waver tune, but unknown how,
initiation, older lads,
as mother’s Light hummed Housewives’ Choice?
I guess they left when dawdle passed,
like climbing trees and running grass
despite the keeper’s keep off plate,
before the wolf came to that door.
I did not know what qwerty was -
though sister would from typing pool;
I called by trunk (and sent ahead,
now mind has switched to college lawns),
when mobile was the library
and cells reserved for gaol time.
Where have all the whistles gone?