Down by the waters of the Bay
I saw a beach ball
stuck upon the rocks
and straining for freedom.


It was too far out
for me to reach –
too tricky for an old man to reach –
but too tempting for him to ignore.


He thought there must be children wondering
what had happened to their joy.


Did the wind steal it?


Did dancing waves
just pull it out of their sight?


Or were the little ones just careless
forgetting some momentary joy
and moving onto another?


For some reason
I wished to know
the fate of that lonely ball
yet I had only imagination
to serve me.


On the night of the day
when I first saw that bobbing sphere
I took various options to bed with me
and I became young again.

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