Toss and Catch

The laundry room, all sunny,
Said let the game begin.
I grabbed a tennis ball in hand
And closed myself within.

A birthday cake, half eaten,
Lay just outside the door.
Instinctively, I felt that this
Day should have something more.

I tossed the ball and pondered.
I caught and tossed again.
The birthday memories crowded in
As gentle as spring rain.

Once for each year I tossed and caught,
Then hid the ball away
To bring it out as each year passed
And it was more than play.

With every toss, the thoughts rolled
out;
With every catch, renewed,
It was a clearer yearly vision
The final catch reviewed.

It started out at seven years
And still goes on and on;
The toss and catch, the focusing
On moments come and gone.


© 2002 Pam H. Murray

May 11, 2002