Untitled
Monica L. Bielke
Open hand reaching.
The green stem snaps with a sharp tug,
Scent of lavender orchid drifts.
Eyes close, a smile.
A red rubber ball sitting still.
White glove grasped, tossed gently,
Thrown higher, growing heavier.
Red blur, up, down, bounce, bounce, bounce. . .
Silent,
Crossed legs in black tights, White
gloves.
A lavender orchid,
A red rubber ball,
And empty hands,
bounce, bounce, bounce...
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