There's Just Hoops

When I see a court.  When I hear a ball.  When the mesh, imperfect, dances on a breeze.  Sights and sounds become a feeling.  It's sweet.  It's sweat.  Stinging the eyes, demanding more.  It's escape, it's freedom.  I know it.  It knows me.  It's all I know.  And it's unknowable.  Because in the moment there is no thought.  There's just hoops.

thumbnail_image2.jpg
Tim Caldwell