That Sound Again

It came through the walls tonight,

three blocks away, maybe four.

That hollow thud. Pause. Thud.

Not quite a rhythm. Not quite random.

Someone alone at the court

doing what I used to do

when the light was still gray enough to see by.

Bounce. Bounce. The pause when you're catching it.

Then the shot.

I couldn't hear the shot, just the pause

that meant the shot was happening,

that meant someone was still

practicing things nobody would see,

perfecting what didn't matter.

I used to be that person.

Before the light went all the way down.

Before I stopped wanting anything enough

to stand in the dusk and make it

over and over until my hands knew the shape of it.

The sound stopped.

Either he went home

or he stopped listening for the ball to come back.

I went back to my screen.

The words were still there,

waiting for me to finish them,

but I heard the pause instead.

That small silence where the ball was supposed to come down.