First a little boy skate boards down our street

then an older brother kind walks down

hollering to the small last boy to watch for a car.

Is there a first? Is there a next?

Is everything just now?


When examined closely

I am certain of nothing,

the closer I look,

the deeper I dig,

the less and less I know.


I mourned for life before when I was in college

after college I mourned for college.

Now I mourn for the mourning after college.

Or I look back contemplatively

realizing I am happier now, just aware.


I have no prescription to lift pain off.

I must watch not to make offers

since I am without possessions.

I remember fearing I would be homeless;

many times I worry about the evicted.


Maybe.

Maybe I am just a skater, with a rush

of world against my senses.

Maybe I am just a boy,

wind chaser, soarer, scabby knees.