last rays of light tonight

something about the voice cruising towards our house, rolling board wheels on asphalt and definitely a phone conversation in a girl voice, maybe late teens, twenty minutes past sunset; I look from the side of the house between wall and lilac bush to catch sight of shoulder length blonde, a triangulating ripple catching whatever raspberry edged summer light is left, short jeans skirt or skort, and with perfect grace a pale leg swoops down to give the push to momentum
I smile because skateboards used to be so much just for boys and this girl either never knew that or doesn’t give a shit—to me equally delightful ends to sexist nonsense re transportation of bodies young enough to articulate on a skateboard