Playground Basketball, Durham
Black arms unfold
sinews taught with glistening skin.
The man strains for the globe, draws breath
The woman, waiting to be seen
in painted jeans and gold-braid hair,
She is a queen, a mighty queen.
This is her court,
someday she’ll judge the Seraphim.
But today the Angels’ flaming swords and unfurled wings
flash above the rim of Earth;
the man falls to the ground, and dies
the woman feels the pain of birth.