|People of Chilmark, Thomas Hart Benton, 1920|
Drop the Ball
I can tie my laces and look the part.
I can admire their grace and watch the art.
Reach deep inside with dogged drive,
and while they glide and run and thrive...
winded, I inspect the ball in my hand.
Does it get thrown, or rolled, or hit with a stick?
And where was I going with it anyway?
I drop the ball.
And head back to the bench
where I belong.
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