Praise to you for the boy in the park
outside my window.
You made him lanky and brown
with feet as big as his skateboard.
He’s wrecking the soft bricks
trying to perfect a fancy move.
It is eluding him.
He swears when he falls off.
Where did he learn those words?
He tries again. When he misses,
the board slaps sharply on the sidewalk.
He misses a lot. Slap, slap, slap.
It startles the cat.
It’s impossible to concentrate
while he’s working at joy,
but when he pulls it off, oh baby!
oh brother! I think of you,
the glee you feel when
we make it: when just once
we get love right.