Sneaker Karma

In Bob’s shoe department

a boy just learning to talk

sitting in the front

of a shopping cart

asked my name

he said come over here

with his eyes

Holding a red yellow

and blue leather ball

used for juggling

he called the blue azul

his sister’s was crocheted

a multicolored

hacky sack one

I asked him

what are the other colors

she whispered the answer

in his ear he didn’t repeat it

she proudly told me the name

of her school and her teacher

Mr. Peck that was

my grandfather’s name I said

Their mother moved

up and down the aisles

while the girl spun narratives

like greyhounds racing around a track

and the boy sat like a sentry

at the entrance to the kingdom

trumpeting the gravitas

of each newfound word

They talk too much

the mother said

toting social convention

in her arms with the shoeboxes

the three of us knowing

that she couldn’t stop us

from sending and receiving

these signals that might

have come from another time

and place when perhaps

we shared something

like the same blood

or space or a pathway

we recognized each other

in the sound

of our utterances

like flickering light

catching on something

behind the eyes

bouncing hovering

then scattering

reverberating

saying I know you

yes I know you too.