Four boys stood in the middle of our side street.
They looked up at the sky, at the phone line,
at the basketball shoes looped over the thin black line.
They threw rocks skyward in many attempts
to tip balance and friction so the shoes would fall
back to earth, back to black asphalt, back to their owner.
This went on until one boy got bonked on the head
by a rock returning to earth without the shoes.
One of the boys muttered, Can’t go home.
Can’t go home. Can’t go home.
Can’t go home. Can’t go home without them.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney