Echoes Main

Lacing up my sneakers tightly,
Pulling on a sweat band,
Pick up the ball,
Throw it to my opponent and saying,
"Your move"

He moves a pawn forward,
I counter him,
His offense attacks smoothly and quickly,
Always in motion,
Attacking the king,
The basket to be conquered

Sweat dripping down my forehead,
Concentrating,
Urging on my other players,
Someone gets a steal,
The ball is in my hands,
I take off

I pull on my buckle,
At the peak of the hill,
I peer down,
Then we're careening along,
Wind whistling,
Images blurring

Teammates on either side,
No defender can stop it,
We fly down,
Whip the ball to my left,
A teammate hauls it in,
Scores the winning basket,
Checkmate.

Open my eyes,
In a room,
A room with walls that change,
Walls that are no one color,

I reach out,
Upon my touch,
The walls disappear,
I'm on a basketball court

This can't be real,
Yet as my calloused hand,
Feels the hundreds of grains,
That grace the surface of the ball,
As I recognize the weight I know so well,
It feels like the realest thing in my life.
 

A teammate I don't know,
Yet seems familiar with me,
Pushes the ball up court,
I fill the lane on the left,
A perfect fast break is created,
As he starts the motion,
Of snapping off a no-look pass,
The very air seems to shimmer

I grab the ball,
In midstride,
Elevating effortlessly,
I hit my head, on the ceiling.
Of my room

I land,
The chair beneath me,
Buckles my knees,
Forcing me into it,
I stare down, at my desk,
At a poem,
With the title, "A Love for the Game".