I don't know much about this boy

The boy

out there on the court

shooting again and again.

the ball hits the ground,

sound rings in the air

up to my ears, four floors above him.

I don't know much about this boy.

His name, and a few

random facts:

he was going to go to a movie with us

Thursday night,

but he worked on his German

instead;

and he likes to play basketball

shooting hoops on the court.

Today I found out one more thing

about this boy-

isn't it strange that while

I was dancing with joy

in the lounge last night

that same night, the boy's mother

died.

I watch him shooting hoops

and wonder

about him, about how he feels inside,

about loneliness and the sudden changes

from child to adult and

I think about the small comfort

in stepping outside the world to

play basketball under a Saturday night sky.

sjf

March 17, '93