summer high tops

as we played

stick ball in the street,

being Maris

or Mantle,

hydrants and Ramblers

as bases,

cardboard too,

the heated

tar

road, a soft black stew,

came home with

us

on the bottom

and sides

of our shoes. it's death

to them.

it took

money earned slowly,

summer

money, cutting lawns,

washing cars

to buy them,

and now this.

the bright white 

summer high tops,

once pristine, now

ruined.