We Start with Early Morning

by Arnold Adoff

even before the school bus,

as the sun just shows itself

east over the roofs

of the neighborhood. I am on

the drive, (5)

pebble

rubber

ball

popping

up into (10)

my right

palm,

onto the flattened

tips of five fingers. My shot

is sweet as jelly on the toast (15)

On the bus my books are in the

backpack on the floor.

The ball is always in my hand.