Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Hoop Dreams

Hoop Dreams

In our neighborhood, blessed is every boy--
           a hoop on every house, garage or pole by the driveway
Blessed am I, having a brother--
          a hoop on our driveway for my dreams, too.
 
On the cracking, concrete court we learned
          to take a charge and hold our ground
          to see a goal and take the shot
          to share the ball, the win, the loss
          to spell P-I-G and H-O-R-S-E
          to breathe in uncertain grace at the charity line.

In pickup games ‘til cold hands and darkness
         drove us out of the lane and off the court,
On hot Saturdays, ten thousand reps, perfecting
         a layup, a jumper, man-to-man, zone
We dreamed we could soar and score
        as one and one-on-one
        me and you, melding as a Dream Team.

Now in the second half, beyond the three point line,
         the clock speeds on
         and we still take the charge, attain a goal,
         share the glories and defeats
and know the certain grace of charity on the Dream Team.

Hoop Dreams, then and forever.

1 comment:

  1. Mare, This is really evocative. I could hear the ball bouncing on the pavement and feel the cold air around me. Well done...this is really a poem. Thanks

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