To Things Forgotten.

Huck,
Click, click, click, click, click,
Huck,
Click, click, click, click, click,
outstretched arms catch wind against that old flannel,
those worn jeans with the honeycomb against the back of your knees,
that backward ball cap that gathers sweat,
those vans that just fit perfectly on your feet,
because your toes are worn into the canvas that lines them,
the cuts, scrapes, bruises, tickets, and late night push sessions,
spotlights against ledges, black out security cameras,
cops telling you, you need to leave,
the thousands of signs that read, "NO SKATEBOARDING,"
that moment of ecstasy when you land that big trick,
that one you've spent months learning,
the labels, the road rash, the broken limbs,
all for the love of,
Huck!,
click, click, click, click, click,
Huck!,
click, click, click, click, click.