Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Drop the Ball

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.

This is a Magpie Tale. Please go here to check out other tales based on the image above.

14 comments:

  1. Great poem. I know the feeling... "Why did I walk into this room again?"... "What was I going to do with this peice of paper in my hand?" :o)

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  2. You bench-warmer you ... your poem is fun!

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  3. Practise makes perfect..try again, although the poem is so fine!!

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  4. It was always thus with me in school in the sports division...sadly! love the poem!

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  5. So much happening here. I like it.

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  6. You definitely don't belong on the porch!

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  7. I love this - and can relate completely!

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  8. We all lose the plot occasionally :)

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  9. Let me just say, while I really like the poem, I love Thomas Hart Benton's art.

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  10. I can definitely relate! Great poem!

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  11. Boy, can I identify with this. How many times I've dropped the ball or felt like I did.

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  12. Love this - I often lose the plot.

    Anna :o]

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