Bouncing of the Baketballs

April 30, 2011
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To find the ball
to grasp it, but
not fall.
To dribble, cross over
by cross over
it to taunt the enemy
yet not persuade
him to reach.
Its the trill, like
on a beach.

But when the pass is
made from person to person.
Closer to the cotton-trimmed rim.
One more step closer to two,
But when the final shot is shot
the crowd is silent,
a hushed sign of respect falls on the other team.
Then the buzzer sounds
the crowd looks at the score.
A satisfying swish
and a quick change of score
leaves the crowd roaring
up till past 4.
This is basketball, my sport
my life.

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onlinepro said...
Jun. 20, 2011 at 12:52 am
This is an awesome work of poetry. 
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