In the failing shadow of a day whose hours have turned like leaves br In slow spirals of green, red and gold br A boy grows, longer with each shadow, taller as the streetlights see him br Smiling at his limbs because they are familiar friends, if sometimes rebellious br Still they carry him, as they do now br In sublime arcs, orbiting a particularly dark grain of tar br In the street façade, winding his heart on his long legs br Like the leopard springs of a grandfather clock, his body cocked br Tense, terse preparation for flight br His legs stop br But only briefly, as the crossbow bolt of his youth br Strains, tightens on the bicycle pegs br His shoulders whipping together as if becoming wings br His eyes on the splintering plywood, hastily recovered br From a Walmart shipping dock for reincarnation on cinder blocks br Thrilling to new life, slinging ageless taunts br The dubious, undeniable challenge of youth shouting br Like curiosity’s mistress br The child’s metabolic race for age beckons in a semblance br Of promise, a catharsis. br Growth learns by experience br Thus the resemblance of the boy’s smile to a sundial br Leg pumping bike pedal tribal rhythm br The primal up and down whistle br Wisdom calls like breath through bright teeth br The promise of flight as black rubber grins br From the innocent silver of rims br Starining against the mothering embrace of the chapped lip br Edge of the ramp, br Leaping from the precipice, and then….