I am composing a Paddleball Concerto scored for marimba, wood blocks and chorus of men’s shouts

The balls, tuned in eastern mode, clack a jazzy rhythm—pok pokPOKpok pok pok pokPOKpok pok pok

A wide winged avenging angel cloud broods over the water as the sun pokes and pushes its way down now spraying fans of light, now spreading a molten swath on the sea face

Surfers dot the “DANGER ABSOLUTELY NO SWIMMING” zone

In a confusion of rhythms the day winds down surfers in horizontal sweeps the cloud melting shift shape sun sliding through and retreating a sneaky winning POK

The concerto ends in a coda of high fives, moans, and laughter as the sun drowns in a fiery finale.

Contributor’s Note: Barbara D. Holender lives in Snyder. Her collections of poetry include “Shivah: Poems of Mourning” (1986), “Ladies of Genesis” (1991), and “Our Last Best Perfect Day” (2007).