Strange Things Happen

I found a ball in the yard
and tossed it as high as I could
and waited to catch it.
Not mine, it probably belonged
to the neighbor kids—
weird in appearance, stripes
around it like Saturn’s rings,
stars and a moon on the sides.
It may belong to a game
where the pattern fits the play.
It lay in my yard, fresh shiny cover—
I never saw one like it.
It’s been years since I played
catch. We never had a ball
marked like this, just an old
faded red one with a chunk
knocked out by a bat or dog’s teeth.
This ball looked different,
not ordinary, not play-worn.
I tossed it into the air
(that was years ago).
I remember it never came back.