A Game Of Catch Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

A bouncing rubber ball filled with air
Is an object of skill for amusement.
Playing catch; pay attention… prepare.
Hits of untamed aims, you must prevent.

A small child smiles, while happily having fun
As you gently toss the ball to waiting hands.
Grandson pitches back like a shot from a gun…
Like a marksman from the Wild West badlands.

Protect your cranium and dive for cover.
The ball goes beyond… to the unknown.
Where did it go? How can we recover?
With sad regret, the game is postponed.