Your childhood traumas are rising
choking you, bruising your joy
your sense of humor.
Your confident outlook
has smoldered into ashes
in the aftermath of all
that’s gone before.
Where did that young man go?

The boy who delighted
In the game.
The Michael Jordans
and oh, those shoes!
How clean you kept them,
your teammates’ shoes scuffed
and browning from the grime,
yours as bright as teeth gleaming
smiling tongues
grinning laces.

That boy
dribbling the orange ball
on the backyard basketball court
king of his own domain,
laughing.