Just So; Scooter Hero
Just So
Don is troubled. The invitation
clearly says au naturel,
and of course
he’s hoping to impress her,
but he isn’t sure
that skin is right for him.
He likes a suit,
and a white shirt pressed just so,
two knife-edge trouser creases
always just ahead of him.
He knows exactly where he is with them.
Scooter Hero
He’s so tall, so cool,
with one hand on the handlebars
and one shoved in a pocket,
balancing. One foot is steady,
one flipped behind.
I want to turn and say
to everyone, “Hey,
look at this kid!”
But then he stops, steps off,
and when he gets back on
it’s two feet, two hands
and leaning forward,
eyes on the wet path ahead.
I wait,
for that hand to find the pocket,
for the shoulders to fly back again,
but no, we’re not all heroes all the time.
I’m still watching as he wheels
his chariot away around the corner,
on his trainers
the little wings glittering