Hi

You sit there,
huddled in the corner,
hands wrapped about your knees,
tossed aside, like that Ford GT remote controlled car
with "Working Lights!" and "Longer Distance Driving!"
that I pestered my parents for endlessly
and then sat motionless, collecting dust,
never to do donuts or race wheel to wheel
down cracked sidewalks.

Instead, it's the paint-chipped Matchbox and Hot Wheels
who chase each other
through the city streets,
my oldest friends,
who shout over the din of the lunchroom
about which is better,
Star Wars or Indiana Jones,
who I usually yell along with.
Yet today,
I can't help but watch you,
downcast and alone,
and wonder if I should go over
and say

"Hi"