The river nettle

 The stinging nettle was only a kilometer from the river's end
The boy had no signs about him small town had hidden them
the path went from the highway that no longer exists through
to the beach area where sports and accomodation tried to

we put our hands in stinging nettle for lack of a plan
the river water cold and unable to relieve our stinging hands
up the way his isolated house stood like a cartoon box
His parents devout and pale enough to evoke shock

Other parents neurotic busybodies in rush to leave impact
Stinging nettle had it's own purpose and blessing compact
the clueless wanderer soon learned of the leaf's barb's sting rate
Parents and illusions age and disappearing tidal pools evapourate

Their rules once gave us structure like margins of a river
keeping us from that bushy stinging nettle pain giver
keeping us from our own treacherous hands