1.
         You were
Mae's Dairy Deli when
all I had to do was ride
down the Half-Mile Hill
on a 10-speed before
I reached swim practice.
         I would dive in
and follow the lane lines,
exhausting myself in races
so on the bus trips home
I could play M.A.S.H.
         A game to reveal
my wrongs—swimming
harder as I traded two
wheels for four
                     and a flat-bed.

2.
         You became
Hoyte-Luthley Football
Field and the sound of
cleats walking on black
top,
         wet blades of grass
pried from clumps of mud,
a three-point stance,
                     weight
only slightly in front, arms
making a pendulum, eyes
shattering
         the cracks in plastic
armor.

1.
         You were
Mae's Dairy Deli when
all I had to do was ride
down the Half-Mile Hill
on a 10-speed before
I reached swim practice.
         I would dive in
and follow the lane lines,
exhausting myself in races
so on the bus trips home
I could play M.A.S.H.
         A game to reveal
my wrongs—swimming
harder as I traded two
wheels for four
                     and a flat-bed.

2.
         You became
Hoyte-Luthley Football
Field and the sound of
cleats walking on black
top,
         wet blades of grass
pried from clumps of mud,
a three-point stance,
                     weight
only slightly in front, arms
making a pendulum, eyes
shattering
         the cracks in plastic
armor.

3.
         You are
The Trestle—abandoned
like fruits you threw out
for not being vegetables,
good—like corn
                     or soy.
I could have done the will
of the elders, "best not to
cause a stir" really means
"best to watch fall turn
to fall."
         But I must conform, yes—
that is a value of The Trestle
and while I never smoked
under its orange tracks
I did learn
                     to admire
the boys who did.

4.
         I am
grateful for being built
in the heart-fueled factories
of McKinley Elementary,
The Elks Lodge,
Alco's, and Orchard Lanes.

But there was no place
to assemble a Craig, model 1986.
My parts laid in disconnect,
rusting by my
own rot.        So I left
to a place where sky-
scrapers stand on their own
steal and cast shadows
         across an ocean.