Treasure Island

Jan De Raeymaeker


Handball


Those three walls shouldered together so well
Always refusing the sun

Every swipe and lunge and stolen grunt
Locked into their towering deafness

The barren grey belted flat by calloused knuckles
Taking up the fight

Each flat thump lifting bruises up
To shine knowingly like lodes in the dullness

The bullies, the delinquents, the ruffians
Beating hard memories with a softer pain

Ball in place of buckle
Trusting to the only ear that would listen

Submitted: Tuesday, July 15, 2014

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Topic(s): life

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