Play

Poem By Lexi Balla

First day.
Deep breath.
Gym
Smells good.
Still dark.
Soft light.
Girls come,
about thirteen.
Coach walks
to center court.
Lays out jerseys.
Twelve total.
I see my number
lying in the middle.
Can't wait to feel
the smooth fabric
on my back.
Coach looks at me.
Smallest one here.
Whitest one, too.
Smiles.
Shakes his head.
He thinks
I'm gonna be out of here
in a few days.
But I'll show him.
I'll show him.
Looks at us.
Tosses me a ball.
Says one word:
'Play.'

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