Ball

In honor of my younger brother, John, with whom I enjoyed countless hours of legos, make believe, and wall ball.



If I had ears I first would hear
The wind's high pitch from moving fast
Then painless crash as I met house
crescendo-ed laughs with each return

If I had eyes I'd keep them shut
For being thrust into the air
would be enough to lose one's lunch
With blurs of color streaming past

My nose would smell the young boy's hands
His sweat from repetitious play
And then, too soon, the paneled wall
the ling'ring cedar still remains

If I had nerves I would feel pain
As bruises blue became rebruised
And wounds were not allowed to heal
Forever suffering-- endless game




Originally written 14 May 2009. Original post here.