early poem about love and guilt from "Poems People Liked (2)"

 Catching the hard, red cricket ball

I rub it on my trousers, spin it in my hand

and reaching backwards throw it at her.

 Hard and accurate the ball

divested of a reason rotates through the air,

catching the sun upon its body, gathering

impetus until the eye is mesmerized.


It happened far too quickly:

the untiring accuracy of my throw

that never would have hit a wicket

folded against her with a gentle noise.


She winced, her hand upon her bosom, tried to smile

and started crying like a girl;

and picking up the ball I threw it furiously down the field

and found myself in tears.

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