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Hoops

I stopped to watch the kids playing
in the courtyard, yelling,
their sweaty faces,
lit eyes,
quick hands and feet,

the ball, alive,
the dribbles,
the shouts—

Pass, pass!!
Shoot!
Bang—missed—
Here, here!
Swoosh—
score.

A few cars passed by.

From the corner
of my eye,
I saw Death
down the street,
in his ragged raincoat,
scurrying away.

That's right,
I muttered.

Nothing for you to see here,
motherfucker.