Throw the Rock

We throw the rock just to hear
The silver swoosh or its backboard bang.

We play to fifteen by ones, pulling
shirt tails across our foreheads, then
line-up at the water fountain just so
we can start all over again.

Only you and me out here
On this empty playground.
No box seats, No coaches.
No Clipboards. No shot clocks.

And we got overtime whenever we want.