The Ball Poem

The poet asks what the boy will do now that he has lost his ball. He saw it bounce merrily down the street and then into the water. Telling the boy that other balls exist is no use.

The poem opens with a question: what is the boy to do now that he has lost his ball? The poet watched it go merrily bouncing down the street and then over into the water. He knows it is useless to say, "O there are other balls" - the loss feels final to the child.

An ultimate shaking grief fixes the boy. He stands rigid, trembling, staring into the harbour where his ball went. The poet would not intrude on him; offering a dime or another ball is worthless.

"An ultimate shaking grief" fixes the boy as he stands rigid, trembling, staring down all his young days into the harbour where his ball disappeared. The poet chooses not to intrude. A dime, another ball - these are worthless because they cannot restore what the moment has taken from him.

The boy now senses his first responsibility in a world of possessions. People will take things; balls will always be lost. No one buys a ball back - money is external.

For the first time the boy senses responsibility in a world of possessions. People will take things; balls will be lost always. And no one buys a ball back. Money is external - it cannot reach the inner wound of loss or replace an object tied to memory and feeling.

Behind his desperate eyes the boy is learning the epistemology of loss - how to stand up knowing what every man must one day know, and most know on many days: how to stand up.

He is learning, well behind his desperate eyes, the epistemology of loss - the knowledge of how loss works and how one must live with it. He is learning how to stand up, knowing what every man must one day know and what most people know on many days: how to stand up after loss.