Skip and Boots

by Rebecca Blake Title

His name was Skip
And he was playing a new game
of catch.
Her name was Boots
And she propelled herself
out of his way
with an unbelievable velocity.

In the first place
he had never really got the hang
of catching baseballs with his Dad.
How did one go about catching
a girl? It seemed such an odd concept.
He had tried asking his Dad: "Hey, next time,
will you throw me Boots?"
But that had resulted in an afternoon
of trying to catch the families' boots:
His mom's black leather ankle high boots,
his dad's work boots, his little brother's
Doc Martin boots with painfully steeled toes.

He didn't understand what was
happening to him.
He'd never been interested
In the games of kissy-tag
and post office.
Games with rules that were never
explained to his satisfaction.
But she. He wanted to burrow
his head into her fluorescent
tantalizingly textured sweater
and never come up for air.