Childhood and cloudy skies
“Play Ball” by Shel Silverstein
I was parked outside my apartment chatting with a dear friend when I noticed this sign. I’ve never actually used the basketball hoop or lackluster tennis net enclosed by the fence, but the contrast between the bright color of the sign and the demand it placed on the surrounding area was striking to me.
So I snapped the picture and started thinking about poems. I wanted something that would capture the spirit and whimsy of childhood, which immediately made me think of one of the first books of poetry I was ever introduced to, “A Light in the Attic” by Shel Silverstein. I loved his rhymes and witty stories so much that I would fold the corner on every page that had something that made me laugh.
Over the course of my childhood, that book nearly doubled in size because almost every page was dog-eared. Choosing this poem, one that many may say doesn’t constitute “serious poetry” was important to me because I firmly beliece that poetry that matters is poetry that echoes or informs our actual lives.
Sometimes, life is magical and fun and full of recess, and I don’t think we should forget that.
Even if occasionally you have to “be the ball.”
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