THE BOY IN THE BLUE SHORTS

 

THE BOY IN THE BLUE SHORTS

spreads out on the back of the boat

playing with toy trucks in front of us.

His mother sits with him, watching,

but also paying attention to the movement

of the vehicles. The boy, maybe 4,

also in blue shirt, and a blue and black

baseball cap. He’s laid out, now, legs

splayed, while his mother sits cross-

legged. There’s a yellow school bus

and fire truck, a dragon and a cement

truck. One green dump truck and

a red SUV, park off to the side.

The boy’s t-shirt reads, Land O’ Frost,

Great Tasting Lunch Meat. The logo

on his hat shows it’s from a Seattle

Mariner’s gift-night game, with

a large letter S. There’s no ambulance,

but the firemen know CPR, can

double-up as medics. The boy’s

shoes are green Sketchers, popular

for all ages. His socks, green

and yellow. Right now, he’s

holding up the blue car, a sedan,

to his open mouth. He might

be stopping for lunch, or

he might be driving through.

He’s good enough to go either way.

This poem should end right here,

but you just can’t stop

a boy on a boat. He parks

that blue car, and he’s back

on the bus, and he’s driving.

No, not so. The dragon is climbing

the fire truck’s extended ladder.

Mom is behind the bus.

Is the dinosaur Tyrannus Rex?

I don’t know again. He’s big,

and his tail’s as long

as the hook and ladder.

I used to know important things.

I count 13, no, 14 vehicles.

I’m counting, trying to get the count

right. None of them are parked.

Everything is in motion,

everything. It’s all moving.

Everything’s in play.

Everything.

The whole world.

Jim Bodeen

On board Lady of the Lake

5 August 2023