the rubber blue

i remember a girl
she threw a blue ball into the air
but it disappeared against the royal sky
and she froze like she was waiting for something
to fall from the clouds onto her open chest

the wheat wilted around her knees
dry and heavy with heat
it sagged onto a dusty path of the
same wheat hue
there were no footprints behind her

i remember a man
he traipsed along the path
a straw hat refracting spotted sun onto his wrinkly brow
spears of wheat pricked his overalls
and his hands were hidden in his pockets
he crawled toward her, age weighing his steps
and i think she may have been afraid

i’ve never seen her face
but i’ve dreamt of her smile
i’ve climbed onto her shoulders and lifted my arms
i’ve felt around until rubber skidded against my fingertips
grasped the ball and held it out for her
she still waits, frozen
for something else to hold