Nothing On My Mind

I go out into the sun
of my small backyard often
to kick a ball around.

I might kick it up in the air
once or twice, keeping it up there,
dozens of times if I am lucky.

I do this to stay active,
and in the process do no thinking.
It is pleasant there in the sun

with nothing on my mind.
To my neighbors, I am a curiosity.
"He's kicking that ball again."

I overheard one tell another
as he shook his head and scratched
his oversized belly.

Then my ball hit the ground
and I kicked it very hard
at my chain link fence where,

in place of something more formal,
I have spray painted fence posts
to make a goal.

This game from my childhood
makes me happy, even now when I am
expected to think serious thoughts.

The heat of sunshine on my arms and face,
the slight weight of a ball on a left foot,
right knee, right foot, 1, 2, 3, 4, etcetera
before the mad rattle of chain link fence.

I am a curiosity, a man
with nothing on his mind.