Peanuts

On the train back to the city,

I sit near a group of fresh-faced

Naval recruits from the

Great Lakes Naval Base.

They are younger than me, maybe

Five or six years,

Maybe more.

One of them is sleeping

With his mouth wide open and

Sunglasses covering

his eyes.

 

A sneaky look flits

Across the face

Of his friend.

He takes a honey roasted peanut

And slips it delicately into

His friend’s gaping mouth.

Half the train watches in silence.

Another poke at the peanut

And it disappears.

The recruit wakes with a start,

Spits the peanut out and

Throws it back

At his friend.

The entire train is now laughing

But we all look away.

“Hey,” he said. “That actually tasted

“Pretty good. Can I have some more?”