Strange Times, and: Backyard Ball

These days something’s differenton our walks at night.Something’s changed.The stars don’t shine

as bright. The trees just looksterner. What happened?Can’t anyone take a joke?These days the lights

in the houses turn offearlier than they used toso that we’re walking nowin almost pitch-darkness.

And there are no high school kidsin their parents’ cars,rolling down their windowsand swearing at us.

Backyard Ball

What goes up must come down.It’s like a law of science or something.And what comes down must go up—it’s like a law of trampolines.

And keep going up, so higheven a ten-year-old can dunk it,not to mention his dad,power forward in his midforties.

How does it feel soaring through the air,legs wide, arms outstretched,reaching for the rim?How does it feel bulldozing your son

to the mat and dunking on his head—screaming the savage victory cryof a caveman—and throwing your shirt offfor good measure? Answer:

It feels good.