My youth looks a lot like

Red and yellow, Roadmaps, and Countertops

An occasional scraped knee because

The picnic blanket is a lot more enticing than

Gravel in my palms

I’ll still get on the skateboard though

Speed down a hill

Point A is where I’m afraid

Point B is where I am not

and this is the only time I’ll fall down once,

and get up once

We call hello death! into a busy street like it’s not a two-way, or

A cul-de-sac

Or a farewell

Only a Point A

Nowadays we look the maybe in the face and laugh