It’s summer in Indiana

And my little boy is eight

We’ve spent all morning together

Since there’s nothing in the gym

Except his future and my past

 

 

Running and shooting

Learning some basics

Only stopping to drink some water

And prop the doors open

Then back to the hard work of fun

 

 

More shooting of course,

Free throws when tired

That’s always the way

Then just after soreness

We’re finally done

 

 

There’s nothing in the gym

Except silence and the floor

And it’s summer in Indiana

 

© Gayle Force Press 2008

• Poetry