Ode to a Basketball Net

I hang here all alone
In this dark, quiet gym
My predecessor was old and worn
I am new and white
The outside doors open
My sleeping friends awaken
With every throw
I swallow
Then I drop it
The bell rings
It is quiet again
I hang here all alone



If you would like to know more about this poem please visit Random Musings.

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Copyright © 2003 J. Michele Bodkin & Jumpbean Enterprises
Last modified: 1/25/2004