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From the Patch
by Kristina Woodhill
Jack knew a thing or two
About fantasies more than skin deep
Knew it was his turn to carve out
Dreams passed down
Seed to seed
Following a bright inner burn
To join the game, torque the spin,
Feel the free-flying arc to the 10-foot hoop
Stories of his sidelined kin
Grinning down low from a 60's or 70's porch
While background cheers from the open front window
Spelled out the span of Chamberlain's massive hands
Tales of sitting on an 80's city stoop,
Scowling, pushed against the railing
Making space for the 'hood'
Bent hard over a boombox
Every exhale in synch to give more lift
To the wings of a 6' 9” Bird named Larry
Jack knew a lot of his kin
Had been fence sitters
Window leaners
Candle holders
Some might rudely imply
Cut ups
Plump to shrunk
But not of their own volition
Not when the squeak of reeboks
Echoed
Beckoned
Polished planks
Bouncing
Sound
To walls
And round
Jack knew it would take
A Globetrotter's sleight of hand
To get him into the game
To get him positioned for
The One Thing
No one from the patch
Resented The One Thing
A chance given
A chance taken
The hand deals
The play
Everything above board
Keeps you going
Some dreamed of a well-ordered
Perfect slow-motion free throw
Some saw themselves part of
A magic behind-the-back pass
A flash of orange through
A sea of waving arms
Jack, however, was shooting for the ultimate
Here's where the legend of Jack 'O begins
An alpha-omega tale, here's where it ends;
A game that is tied with a minute to go
Turns a crowd into lions, its roar fuels the show;
Picture the star of the game on the run,
Guarded and aided by four, five as one;
Into your mind's eye the hoop closes fast,
Into the star's hand is Jack 'O at last,
Count down the ticks as the star fakes, then jumps,
See Jack 'O's grin as he's cleanly slam dunked
10/30/2014 Author's Note: Happy Halloween!
Posted on 10/30/2014
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
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