Down to Earth

Things change. Let’s just start there.
Never more evident
than the day you lunged 
for the yellow pickleball bouncing away
(in your head a magnificent shot) and hit
air, hit asphalt—your right
shoulder fracturing into loss.
Two surgeries
10 weeks in a sling
16 weeks of physical therapy
one metal plate beneath
one ugly scar. And none of that
the worst of it.

No, the worst of it coming
down to earth. No longer
moving like a jack knife
through space: one blade
for the over-the-shoulder catch,
one for the stretch at first,
one for the three-pointer,
another for the drop step: the body
no longer slicing gracefully
into reflex and stillness.

Annie Breitenbucher is a technical writer and an avid sports participant/fan. Her poetry collection, Fortune was published by the Laurel Poetry Collective. Her work has also appeared in two anthologies Beloved on the Earth and The Wind Blows, the Ice Breaks and magazines including Third Wednesday, Streetlight, Fish Food, and SWIMM Every Day. In her former life, Breitenbucher covered the sports of distance running and triathlon for the Star Tribune newspaper. She lives in Minneapolis.