Distant Bounce

The rhythmic thud-thud-thud,

carried on a thin breeze,

from the park, a mile away.

It finds the open window,

slips past the half-drawn blind,

a phantom heartbeat

against the quiet of the room.

Each bounce, a small, blunt drum,

a pulse of careless joy,

summer evening settling in.

I try to read, to hold a thought,

but the sound pulls at me, a string

leading back to scuffed shoes,

the sharp smell of sweat,

a simpler time

that keeps playing, just out of reach.