ONCE

i’d cross over to the other side
of the street, with
fluttering blue nets
shading the gleam of sunny sweat on
young, frazzled disciples of urban peace.

i’d wander on the speckled, crumbling
path through the sparse ballfields
one more time, and
would keep myself separate from it all with
a stiff black coat fencing in my
exhaustion.

i’d pick up a small, ragged rock, but it’s
really not a rock, but a
piece of the pavement chipped
away that used to be slapped by rubber soles, and I
would
yank my arm back and thrust it
way, way out into the muddy, prickly
grass to lie and be
shaded
for
once
in a
lifetime.