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