shuffleboard (national poetry month #30)
Shuffleboard
The disc chatters across the concrete calling out every imperfection in the surface.
A stern, almost mournful, push sent it away from where it was resting
Across the midline down to the place where it’s success will be measured.
Its god: the force that began its journey
As it crashed into others, unable to control itself along the way.
Each disc only going so far as the god intended in an attempt to score and gain favor;
Scraped,
Battered,
Waiting to be reborn into the next push.
The disc chatters across the concrete calling out every imperfection in the surface.
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