Boomerang Poem by jan hansen

A missile

The boomerang was suddenly a must among boys in my childhood
we tried and tried, but the confounded thing didn't return
many broken windows, irate fathers, and clips around the ears
We thought since native Australia did it right, it was a matter
Of technique only they mastered.
I thought of the Nazi salute outstretched arms waiting for the
Boomerang to return, it did, but in a hidden way.
It doesn't matter how far you throw a thing, being an insult or a stone
It will come back when you least expect it and it hurts.