Just three seconds
as he frantically snatches
as the ball becomes his
and he whirls and weaves
dancing out from the riot
from under his hoop
The clock reads two
as he strides to a clearing
out near the center
of the hardwood court,
the ball like a heartbeat
thundering beside him
The clock says one
the crowd's on its feet
as he boldly hurls
and silence descends,
racing unfettered,
upon the stands
Then the clock hits zero
the horn shouts a protest
but the ball unheeding
speeding soars, and
as the clarion quiets,
drops clean and the silence
lifts like a thunderclap
