December 1990 - August 19, 2010He was a good ball.
He was pounded on gym floors during many a Fall.
I was 10 when I found him under the Christmas tree.
He was made of actual leather, a special ball just for me.
He saw action on the carpet of the cultural hall.
He saw action on the carpet of the cultural hall.
He loved it when I'd serve him so hard he made people fall. (OK, not really.)
As with too many things I used to do
He was forgotten once the kids came along, too.
Alone. Outside in the weeds he met his demise.
A tractor ran him down, he must have had a fright.
I hope his last thoughts of us together were swell.
I was so proud of that ball, that ball that taught me to play volleyball well.
Gone, but not forgotten.
