Summer Evening

When she was older
she would look back
to that day
in her friend's front yard
when their houses were big
and their daddy's were rich
She would wonder whatever happened
to that friend who had called after
the boy on the bike
with his hands raised, crossed
above his head
showing off in an innocent way
for too-young girls

She had said, just loud enough,
You're not that cool.
And in the wavering of his tire
they knew he had heard.