pickle ball blues

the idea

of playing a sport

named

after a shrunken

cucumber

soaked

in vinegar and brine,

depresses me.

give me the wide

open

fields of my youth,

with goal

posts,

the hard

black top

with rims and chain

nets.

give me the ball

and glove

on a sunny day,

the dirt paths to the bases.

pickle ball,

dear lord, forgive me,

but has

it come to that.