GAMES OF HOPSCOTCH

By Dianne Moritz

In the days of innocence and Eisenhower,

most girls would play their games of hopscotch.

Jay-walking to a vacant lot across the street,

we’d kick away debris and bits of broken glass,

scratch out our game-boards

on rough cement with pieces

of chalk snitched from school.

Like kangaroos, we’d hop, hop, hop, jump, hop

turn around, till sweat dripped down our rosy cheeks,

and our lips craved ice-cold cherry Cokes, grape

popsicles from Sweeny’s drugstore down the block.

We’d skip off laughing, hand

in hand, stepping over wide

cracks, sparing our mothers’ backs.

Just yesterday, I read the news:

DOPE DEALERS BUSTED

on my old street corner. Bullets

popped, brains and blood

littered the black-top war zone.

Now, trails of paint, white as lines

of pure cocaine, mark the place

dead bodies fell...down, down, down,

all meandering toward the spot

we girls once played our games

of hopscotch...high on life.

* * * * *

Dianne Moritz writes poetry and children’s books from her home in Southampton, NY. Her book, 1, 2, 3 BY THE SEA, was on Bank Street College’s “best book list of 2014.” Adult pieces have appeared in The Drabble, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Haikuniverse, The Haiku Foundation, 101 Words, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, and others. She is a frequent contributor to Highlights Magazines for kids.