The racquetball fell short and dwindled away from me…
Instead of chasing it, having it always just out of reach,
I let is slowly bounce off the farther wall and roll back to me
But then, instead of stopping it, I lifted my foot to let it pass,
Watching it as it swiggled slowly under and beyond me
Its motion dictated by the swollen-edged angles
Where worn and polished planks of slatted wood
Irregularly marched sequentially into relativity
Until it finally came to rest, eddying in a small swirl,
Slowly easing into a complete stop – still vibrating –
As it thrummed with residual energy on grids of gravity
And I realized how… until then… I’d taken it personally.
(November 20, 2018)
Candid Corvid Productions 