After the grandsons. After our first bath together in the hot tub, I come out by myself. It would be dark except the moon. It is a three quarter moon. The moon coats a film across the water. Themoon coats me in the water. There are three stars but the first one is the one I wish on: to be a good rider. I want to be a good rider.
Nineteen year old Beau is caught in his fly-head-tossing thing. Maybe Tootie is right: An evansion and a half. But the answer is not to push him through so fast that he strains a tendon. No, at work on the psych unit, we used to say, you can't take something away without giving something to replace it. Beau has been doing the fly-head-toss for years. What can I give him in return. Riding I watch his head, I watch his hears. His head comes up, I wiggle my fingers, his head goes down I gently lift it up. He strikes out with his leg, I try to catch the instant and push him on. Go out Beau. Go out into my hands. Go with me.
I very well may be completely wrong.
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