Basketball Days

Slapping and thumping, we play out there,
Four feet shod, two feet bare
There’s thorns, there’s prickles, there’s gnats in the air,
But we’re playing basketball. We don’t care.

Flies and beetles of every kind
In compost bins, but they smell fine.
Schoolwork and yard work press the time,
But we’re playing basketball. We don’t mind.

The cars may pass, so may the bus,
Red cars, blue cars, big old trucks.
Thorns could get in the ball and make it bust,
But we’re playing basketball. Can’t bother us.

At the very end of the day,
When we pass the time this way,
When the sunlight threatens to pull away,
We’re still playing basketball. “So what?” we say.