by F.X. Baird
I saw a Girl Running with a Jumprope
I saw a little girl running with a jump rope
In the empty parking lot behind the high school
a family has parked their van with the doors blown open.
The father is thin, a biker or a runner, with a long
red beard from months of quarantine. The mother
could be a runner too, skin-tight leggings, not
from fashion; the practiced care of three young children,
perhaps a husband who wanders in a dreamlike state.
I walked by, masked for the times, hidden smile
remembering parking lots and bicycles, safe asphalt
for practice and play. They ignore the man walking by.
The oldest, a boy, helmeted, fiercely peddles his bike. I can’t
remember what his sister was doing because the youngest,
a little girl about three, old enough to run without falling,
throws herself into delight of balance, captures my attention.
She emerged from the van with a jump rope, a simple
object, began to run, trailing the rope behind, twisting her
neck around to see the plastic grip bounce up and down as she
ran, a smile splitting her face, her mother watching, feet planted apart,
arms akimbo, back to me. I could not see if pride, delight, fatigue filled
her eyes. My eyes were filled with memory and something
like awe. A child, running, taking a simple thing, ignoring its purpose,
its design, transforming it into something not yet imagined, creating joy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
F. X. (Fran) Baird was born in Philadelphia. He studied with David Ignatow at the 92nd Street Y in New York City in the early 80’s, and with Cathy Smith Bowers, John Drury and Jamey Dunham at the Antioch Writers’ Workshop in Yellow Springs, Ohio. He is a member of the Osage Street Poets who study with Leonard Gontarek. His poetry has appeared in the Schuylkill Valley Journal, Moonstone Arts, and Philadelphia Stories. His first chapbook, Painting with my Father, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2019. (https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/painting-with-my-father-by-fran-baird/)