The Day I Knew

The black, string net quivered with excitement,

Wind whooshing back and forth in quick spouts,

White spine pained with a thwack so violent,

Steel legs holding firm for numerous bouts.

Thunderous clacks rattled, echoes flying

As the battle scarred pale orb rocketed,

The instrument in an endless challenge

Of deft forces from the red and the black.

Warriors, in their swift utterances,

fought with both wooden tools and witty tongues.

Barrages came forth with li’l tolerance,

Like ferocious bangs of tambourine drums.

The victor’s crown slipped through my fingers swift

To the one I call my most cherished gift.