yellow painted curb

Yellow painted curb glistens in the sunlight,
Empty asphalt parking lot at our feet.
Z and I hit the curb,
Trucks slide and grind.
Barking at us as we hit the curb,
Sliding along smooth as butter.
I get lucky and ride right off,
Onto the black asphalt.
No better feeling,
Good like sticky rice.
So I tell Z,
But he’s incredulous.
It’s the little things,
I try to tell him.
The little things in life,
Makes everything worthwhile.
Hitting that perfect curb,
a frontside carve,
leveling a ballcarrier,
nailing a golf ball 200 yards,
dancing to a perfect pow wow song,
all these things and so much more.
Life is fleeting like a dewdrop,
According to the sages.
The joys are much the same,
So look for them where you can.
Hit that curb and ride it out,
Shut up and skate--
Just means enjoying your life,
Opening yourself to the moment.
The illusive infinite moment,
That is life--that is all we have.