wand

thunderball on sun's day pulls the plates
between mo la la and van groover
tennis is the mortal tongue on monadnock tabor,
with a maple tree mind
reaching to lake carl blackwell, or we all be fools.
practicing serves, making my self a wand
of the season passage, playing games on all nine levels
forming rubber in jungle distances
giving shade and berries to the felt creatures
growing fibers to make a racket able to swat black holes
away.