by Earl J. Wilcox
He flies through the feverish air, effortlessly,
raises muscled arms to stop the three-point shot.
His whole body is fueled by forces favoring
the young—the roaring crowd, fame,
the Final Four, a life-changing game.
Soaring and soaring and soaring, he falls,
then falls again, fast---a leg awkwardly bends,
a broken bone pierces his skin. With him,
the world cries in agony.
Earl J. Wilcox writes about aging, baseball, literary icons, politics, and southern culture. His work appears in more than two dozen journals; he is a regular contributor to TheNew Verse News. More of Earl's poetry appears at his blog, Writing by Earl.
