there is something cold and pure
about walking onto a basketball court
in the morning.
the crows are churning
and the mockingbirds
are reminding us that Hashem
exists, somewhere.
the dribble and bounce
of the ball
is the only sound.
until the innocent shit-talking.
I am happy to grab a few boards,
hit a bank three,
sweat and release some tension
from the week.
I am not competitive out here.
through the defenders,
fighting the wind,
the fog and forgetting for a while is a win.