Winter Basketball
The sky of those days stays with.
Cinnamon arc and beyond leafless trees,
In colors never known,
Not seen even by lean natives bending,
Looking far across the west.
The cold still air suited the waiting.
Time between moments was welcome,
Giving a platform for relishing the scene,
For anchoring the scene into mind's memory
Scene committed to the mind's deepest vault.
So now I can go to th vault,
Draw out the scene, and
Relive it now.
--November 21, 2013
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