Not a Crash
By Jack Lawrence
The yellow and gray striped building's shadow looms over the soccer field.
He squeezes the ball between his ankles, tossing it up to space.
It’s a moon.
His arms swing by his sides, his fingers spread like webs.
His left ankle lifts the black and white globe and his right heel kicks it.
He bends his knee into a V.’
The ball arcs through the air.
Now it’s a rainbow.
The kids yell, “Oohhh!” The ball lands in front of him like a meteorite.
Not a crash,but with a quiet thump.