under the lights

We skated under the lights last night,
Made the trip down to Mason,
Jonesing for the last ten days for a session.
My boy was too battered and bruised,
Trying to play the foosball like Bobby Bouchet,
So he just chilled and watched from the shadows.
My babygirl dropped in said it was way too small,
Too fast for her to do much of anything,
Still needs to work on her carving.
My favorite corner was away from the lights,
Only three throughout the park,
Hitting that tight corner got pretty sketchy.
I went too high had to bail-board jumped up,
Bit me in the shin bleeding turned to hematoma.
Battle scars fresh and new bloody socks,
Part of the price of playing this game,
Broken skin beats broken bones so I don’t complain.
Local newbies were trying to kickturn,
Accompanied by Peterson—some kid that had mad skills,
Flying all over the place grinding ollieing 50/50’s.
Bummed a square complemented them on their park,
Sometimes the kids are alright just kids skating,
Kids just like we were whole lives ahead of them.
Full moon rising cold October evening,
We could see our breath as we pushed and carved,
Bailed and kicked wheels barking boards flying.