No, I will not offer a philosophical view from the quarantine. Rather I will take Patrick’s black square and fill it up.
.
U
n
t
a
k
e
n
.
The poem is about a vile action that nailed the last coffin in my quarantine. It is not Patrick that I counterattack, but rather his black square.
No, I will not
No, I will not place a black square
where a thousand birds should be.
No, I will not place a black square
where the pines and dog fill the sky.
No, I will not place a black square
where the hoop ignites the hope.
Strike that last.
I will.
On the first day of the quarantine
the park maintenance crew took it down.
Events are not related.
It is gone, my hoop.
It was unofficial,
netless,
possibly nicked from some court
by a previous tenant who has since moved out,
and set too low.
And yet,
it got me a ball,
it made me poem
and shoot,
or at least whispered
of promises
of exercise,
of shots untaken.
The next one will come with the net,
amore promised.
How I wish it were still there.
This is my playground. The photos are old – obviously, there is the hoop – but it’s about as far as I can go with the dog these days without getting questioned.
Pines and light and the hoop in the middle. 
Here it was. Now that it’s gone I hugged the tree and we mourned the loss. 
Someone to watch over me. 
Murmuration. 
Given to fly. 
There you go. You may not know this but I’ve got this in my genes. It’s boring alone though, as the ball keeps running downhill. 
Much better in company. Ms Jordan. 
Charging foul! But style points victory. 
Good night, day. And goodbye, hoop.
In response to Patrick Jennings’ Pic and a Word Challenge #223: Untaken
Manja Mexi Mexcessive (closed) 
So good. The verse is so Dr Suess Manja 🙂
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Hehe, thanks, Bushboy. I didn’t grow on him though, only heard of him as adult.
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Sending love to you and the family at this time and wishing I could send you a net.
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Ahh, Lisa, but you can fish it out of the sea! 🙂 Thank you! Italy is standing strong and proud and singing, and the nature is recuperating. I wish you all well too.
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there will be birds who, known to show
the tricks of flight to passers by,
may land again
in your black square
but not today.
there will be pelicans, beaks too full
of history books and verse,
who will offload
in your black square,
but not today
there will be cameras and friends,
peach trees, gnocchi , and rough wine
laid on benches
in your black square
but not today
there is anger, tempered by good sense
that holds the future and its treats
in store ,
that holds the tricks of flight
beakfulls of joy and such like fun,
as toys to wait for from saint nick,
and as the sun heads for its summer
we will wait for christmas,
with hope
in our black square.
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Ahh, Olly! Che bello! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Always hope!
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Great basketball action shots! And are they a flock of birds, or insects?
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Thanks, Amanda. My parents are fun. 😀 They are birds, but I can’t say which ones. They travel in huge groups like this one. Maybe starlings?
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Oh Starlings would make sense
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Lovely pictures and poem! I am glad you and your family are still having fun despite all the recent unfortunate events. Stay well!
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Oh, Irma, these photos are two years old! Parents are far now, back home in Slovenia. Also, the basketball hoop has been removed. This is the point of this poem. 🙂 Be well you too! And thanks for reading!
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Oh yes – I got that the hoop was removed, I didn’t realize it was that long ago though. Ah well, it is nice to relive happier memories especially during this time.
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