4.

Our understanding, the clock keeps running or stops,

that friends you’ve come to talk basketball—

I digress for the sake of those players

who tire of your reasonable scrutiny.

The sonnet wears an asbestos apron.

It can take the heat.  Apollo gave

too much laurel because he liked my looks.

Where left am I?  The wrong side of the urn.

But recall the words of Martell Webster, still

bound by heavy footwear: We don’t deserve it,

but I make sure that I play hard and have

no regrets.  Basketball doesn’t last

forever.  The stress fracture in my foot

is just one of those things.  I don’t regret

anything.  I had a great time. Ditto.