practice

It is cold out. Chill wind. We are both dressed insufficiently for this drop in temperature now that the sun has disappeared behind houses and apartment buildings. A pale glow in the horizon as he rides his skateboard on the tennis court. Bending his legs to crouch beneath the volleyball net as he glides under. He wears a helmet and elbow pads and knee pads. A sweatshirt.

He coasts. He pushes. He practices turning. Steering between objects. Practices falling. Feeling his pain. Continuing with his skating.

A bit later I sit on a skateboard in the grass and watch as he climbs up a slide and slides down again. Goes hand over hand on monkey bars. Runs around the playground. Climbs up the small climbing wall. Climbs back down. Twists on a swing. There I join him and we swing. He practices pumping his legs and leaning back.

November evening. Sometime the weekend after thanksgiving.

–¬†Written December 5, 2017

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