Friday, October 1, 2010

Day fifty-two

Bowling

Only a drunkard would have thought
knocking down ten wooden pins
with a resin ball would entertain
so many people through so many
generations. The pins, metaphors
of life, and the ball, swirling
images, smash into each other
to create poetry. How easily things
glide on wax oiled floors! The slow
hum of the ball against wood grain
then the sudden smash of pins
startles the senses. Perhaps
the anticipation, the ball
released from hand, forms
a spiritual bond of letting go.
That life courses the route
unpredictably as we attempt
to guide ourselves to perfect
strikes. Forget gutter balls
as the next frame enters
the lengthy hallway to the reset
pins.

15:01

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