When I Was Five

When I was five, I played Around other children At the park On the west edge Of town, where the gray concrete slab served As our skating rink. I recall Their presence, but not their faces- Their laughter, but not their smiles- Their movements, but not their forms- Too intent was I upon my own Zigzagging dance. I circled…’round and ‘round In white, boot-styled skates With four wheels and a pink rubber stopper attached To each toe, and laces so long that they needed Two ankle wraps before tying the ends in a lopsided bow. I ventured…on my braver days To the center of the rink, far From the railings; too far to catch myself From falling. I trudged home … then With fresh knee-scrapes and dried tear-trails On my cheeks, and my mother knew I had been brave. Sometimes, I walked… By myself On all the sidewalks In our tiny town From my home to the park, From the park to the grocery store on the corner where I crossed the street straight ahead, turned Left, and crossed again Northward Up the long, long hill past Doug White’s house, turned Right at the Parker kids’ house, and Skipped To the red-bricked building With “Redfield” carved Above the double doors at the top Of the steep cement steps. I sensed… other children hurrying up the steps Into the dark, narrow entrance hall Of the old brick school where raincoats were hung On hooks just outside the classroom door, and Red rubber overshoes lined Up against the wall waiting. I stood in the doorway, Looked inside, and Watched the others. I recall… Their presence, Their laughter, Their movements, and I felt… safe.