Twas the morning after Christmas, and all through my bones
Is a creaking and wincing with cold packs and groans.
The visions of last year, or ten years ago
Were a man somewhat faster than these legs now go.
The holiday feasting that comes with the season
Ticks upward the body fat count with good reason.
So out the next morning the old athlete heads
To shed a few calories (and get out of bed).
The muscles are grateful, not so much the knees,
With fakes and the cuts and the leaps and the threes.
The hoop dreams inspiring me out to the court
Were just a bit more than my skill at the sport.
A few dozen jumpers, a handful go in,
A lot of defense, an occasional win.
You'll hear me exclaim (though you won't see me move)
"I'll be back next week, 'cause I plan to improve!"
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