I. The Beginning
In September she gave you a name
That came with weights and burdens
To break into.
Straightforwardly, you marched them.
As if it were the only thing to do.

II. The Middle
Four miles beyond the confines,
You left in the morning to gather the water.
I was told somewhere along the way you
Fell in love with the aftermath of a line,
And began a new life in its crooked symmetry.

III. The End
I don’t know if she hoped for a life of grace,
or love, mercy, or passion.
Regardless, it is all ok somehow.
There is something to knowing that, when it is over, we may go forward
And start afresh in the broken ranks.

The leaves May be a May green,
And spring May almost be out,
But to me it is still March,
And April May never come.

May-be it will be March
Until I get back in August.
May-be March won’t ever end.

One foot after the other, in perfect alignment
Carrying their spears of regrets with mirror shields to remind me of what I am
A full compliment of soldiers ready to invade my mind
More and more, their numbers never cease to increase
I try my best to stand my ground, equipped with my sword of dreams riding my noble steed of hope
Again I am faced with sad odds, I lose, again
I end up forfeiting a region of my country, again
I end up retreating to my castle of solitude
As I watch the invaders colonize the plains of my mind
Shades of sadness cloud the once clear and sunny skies
Color rich fields fade to black
Another battle, lost
They draw closer, so I ask myself, How much longer
How much longer till my walls of faith give in?
I started counting the days since my noble steed ran away
I've been doubting my chances since my trusty sword broke
The marching draws closer, I'll go out to face them, again.

They might as well have said
that March was canceled
Because that's what I heard
When they announced
There would be no basketball
No basketball
Those were the words that echoed through the college campuses, the dorm rooms, the high school gyms, living rooms, and sports bars
around the world.
So no sweet sixteen
No final four
no watch parties
Or wagers being placed on
Your favorite teams
March always comes in like a lion
But this time
It came in
Like a giant rhinoceros
With social distancing
And excess hand washing
This virus
This 100 year plague
Has turned our every day lives
Upside down
And forced us all
into a new world order
A new world
Where sports is
No longer king
No longer a priority
And no longer important
And I don't even
Like basketball
Really not many sports
To begin with
But I'm very much
A fan of tradition
And giving kids
A chance
At a last hurrah
A final dance
A final prom
If you will
But no basketball in March
Is like
Telling everyone
With a birthday in the month
That they were never born
Its as if all the scores,
All the stats, all the records broken
Never existed
When you tell us
There will be no
March Madness

i has a dream i was running
feet pounding on the ground
(left
right
left
right)
breathing just hard enough to be uncomfortable
(in
out
in
out
in
out)
arms hanging low
swinging just enough to help propel me forward

i felt so free
striding down the road and onto the trail
dodging roots and rocks
jumping over fallen trees
soaring down hills
flying across the woods

i felt so free
just the earth and me