The Stone in the Alley

The kid at the bus stop had the same nylon sleeves,

that loud swish-swish sound as he moved his arms.

It sent me back to the gravel behind the store,

holding a chunk of granite the size of a fist.

I wasn't a mean kid, just bored and stupid,

aiming for the shadow slinking by the fence.

The cat gave a sharp, high-pitched yelp

and vanished under the green metal bin.

The dumpster had a long yellow scratch on the side

where a truck must have scraped the paint away.

I stood there in my windbreaker, sweating,

listening to the silence get loud.