March Madness

by Ben Rasnc

The pure unadulterated sound
of composite orange ball
ricocheting from hard polished floors
captures the crowd mesmerized, anticipating
choreographed moves
like chess pieces
across the checkered squares
as in the waning seconds,
the deft artistry of
a point guard’s palms spin
a perfectly inflated  orb
into delicate trajectory
designed to drop gently swishing
through stringed net
ignites an explosive primal scream
of deafening proportions,
the sweet sound
of victory
at the precise second
the time clock
strikes
triple zero.