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

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