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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

The Game

He tossed a ball in the air,
the boy,
playing a game in the universe.
Moons and planets
wait for players,
to enter games under stars.
Balls bounced through
the seraphim.
Teams sporting colors.

I looked at a gigantic moon
in the dark
for hands to throw it
across the sky,
one horizon to the other,
and I raised my hands
palms up,
for a chance at glory,
as the man who threw it
to the night’s applause.

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