Eastend: Dry Ground At Last

three boys walk down the alley
the sun glints off the baseball bat
their gloves and surely someone
has the softball for this first game
of Five Hundred or just a casual hit and catch

women friends walk their dogs and confide
while their hounds revert to wolves
sniffing for any trace of intruders
left on dried grass and tree trunks

thinking then about the first dry patch of dirt
outside Transpine School in the Peace
how we’d etch out hopscotch squares
decide our categories- mostly breeds of cattle
horses chickens even pigs
the names repeated twice before each hop
a stone on every square after all had hopped safely
one-legged wonders celebrating Spring

today I wore my running shoes for the first time
my own light-footed celebration of dry ground