"Basketball with Alex"

The temperatures this weekend were unusually warm, especially for October in Indiana; therefore, as evidenced by the accompanying photos, Alex and I took advantage of the ideal weather to play some basketball Sunday afternoon at a park near our house that we frequently visit.

Consequently, this also seems the perfect opportunity to post “Basketball with Alex,” a brief poem I wrote earlier this year.

Basketball with Alex

He dribbles as though with rhythms
. . . . . learned from listening to those older

recordings of mine, the vintage jazz
. . . . . he loves so much. Each time driving

the basket, he even seems to imitate
. . . . . the pulse of remembered downbeats.


. . . . . . . . . . * * *


Counting every bounce, he bounds
. . . . . across half court toward an empty net,

appearing to appreciate reassurance
. . . . . he receives whenever the ball returns,

trusts that way it always snaps back
. . . . . as if never wanting to leave his hand.


. . . . . —Edward Byrne