An incensed sun in the conflagrant heaven <br />Signals that the sky belongs to Diablo today <br />The sand pebbles shift along the hard outdoors <br />As the basketball bounces along the grey. <br /> <br />Seven youths pant with parched throats, <br />Their feet shuffling past the littlest child. <br />The ball never passes to him <br />And he just stands out in the open, <br />Playful and riled. <br /> <br />Finally, he scurries up to them <br />And manages to get his hands on the ball. <br />A group of spectators clap and call. <br /> <br />One game of basketball <br />And a child shooting <br />Through a curved wire, <br />Connected to a rusted post, <br />Could be the will o' the wisp <br />Through life's mire. <br /> <br />The ball slowly tumbles along the wire's edge <br />Then finally falls through the bend. <br />The little child jumps up and down <br />Then a missile falls, <br />Bringing the game to an end.<br /><br />K. Jared Hosein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/war-a-game-of-basketball-in-the-third-world/
