The Call Of The Basket Poem by Ima Ryma

During a break from work each day,
I eat an apple to the core.
S'posed to be healthy, don't they say?
Then when I'm done, I try to score
The waste basket across the room.
I toss each core from practiced hand,
And through the air that core does zoom,
In or out of basket to land,
And now getting more in than out.
One day I tossed, my boss walked in.
She helped core in basket, no doubt,
After first bouncing off her chin.

In or out of the basket fall,
Maybe how happened basketball?