that side of the fence
those tennis balls sit safely
on my side, fair game
The next business down from my office is a tennis school.
We share an alley where I park my car.
A 12 foot high fence separates the outdoor courts of the tennis school from the alley.
In the mindset of kids who don’t pick up their toys, there are always tennis balls that are left behind by the tennis players.
The balls left on their side of the fence are, well, on their side of the fence.
The balls that make it over the fence and into the alley and under the bushes in the alley?
They are mine!
I fell they were left out and dispite years of ‘lil help, give my ball back’ I consider them to be fair game.
And I got a drawer full.
Sometimes I feel a little guilty when I pick one up but by the time I get to the office and drop into the drawer with the rest, my conscience is clear.
Now its one of my talismans.
Any I see a ball and pick it, all that day I’ll have good luck.
If I see a heron, its a harbinger of good things to come.
If I beat any of the New York Times word puzzles over the coffee, it looks to be a good day.
Contrived?
You bet!
But these day’s I need all the talismans I can get.
Who knows what side of the fence I am on.
No Haiku For You 