It Shifts from my Hands
It sifts from my hands -
It rises from the court
It fills the air with rotation
In the direction of the rim -
It makes a game Face
Of Kobe, and Jordan -
Unbroken Shots from a shooter hand
Unto the basket again -
It reaches to the Rim-
It wraps it Net and Surface
Till it is lost in the Bucket -
It deals another 2 points
To Bounce, and Bounce - and Bounce -
A Summer’s empty Gym-
Acres of hard court, where games were,
Full of records and games-
It round shape of a Sphere
As Round as ever -
Then it’s Basketball - like God -
It will not be denied its destination -
This poem is about:
Me