I’m in a slight poetic fix,
For surely
it’s expected
That I will
write about the Knicks
Or else be
disrespected.
See, for me,
this team is local
So my
loyalty is due,
Though no
cheering, loud and vocal,
From my
voice will come on through.
I’ll watch
tennis games for hours
And some
baseball here and there,
But it’s not
within my powers,
Citing basketball,
to care.
Still, to
hear a drought has ended,
Fifty-three
long years of thirst,
Revelry must
be extended
As that pent-up
joy’s dispersed.
New York
City’s set and ready
For the
ticker-tape parade
And the sky
will rain confetti,
All poetic
doubts to fade.
No comments:
Post a Comment