Figure skaters make good neighbors
into sharp ones. The men who used
to mind their own beeswax now come
winter slice across the backyard
fence to watch the young girl next door
become the number eight
on the surface of the jury-
rigged ice rink her father made by
letting the hose pool the lawn
and leaving it freeze overnight.
They follow her through their windows
from their breakfast tables; they spy
her when they pull into the drive like pocketknives.
They imagine she invites them skating
and by god they feel more alive.
What is the sum of 9 and 6:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.