Pool Basketball- A poem

I was in a pool as bright as the summer sky, or a blue crayon,
the grown-up man had installed a basketball hoop,
pumped air into the basketball,
hung the hoop.
All that was left for me was to shoot the basketball into the net or
be left cold by the breeze. Kids made baskets and kept making more.
I had chosen to shoot hoops. I want to get better.
I shot three to ten ,
I am getting good!!