Hopscotch
It started with a chunk of gypsum
so soft
it gave itself away
every time we pressed it
onto rough sidewalk.
How like my own body,
softening now with age,
thin hair streaked—
white lines not as bold
as the ones we drew.
My pen is still busy, busy
drawing lines and loops,
outlining space
into lopsided boxes,
designing impossible leaps.
I take my stub of chalk,
builders’ detritus,
throw it beyond the edge
of my own creation,
tuck my leg,
begin.
• • •
Sheryl Slocum teaches English as a second language at Alverno College in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She’s a member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets. Her poems have appeared in several anthologies as well as in numerous small press journals and magazines, including Blueline, the Anglican Theological Review, and the Wisconsin Poets’ Calendar.