The Tennis Ball in the Dryer

The Tennis Ball in the Dryer
It was the failing heart of my home;
an inconsistent beat shaking
dreams out my left ear
where they joined the clutter
of closed books.

Only for one late night
the nervous
rhythm
of coming and going like loud footsteps,
or banging on the door,
kept me awake.

All the games we played as kids sounded within
that rotating drum,
as the clothes continued to battle back and forth for control
over who would win
beneath the heat of that dry sun.

My mother once told me it’s good for beating the fluff
in pillows and quilts, so nothing bunches up,
but in truth, I found the ball in the woods,
leftover from a dog’s mouth,
and decided to keep it, wash it.

We had no history or connection;
it had no use or purpose,

merely something to toss around.

Yet even now when I come home weary,
heart holding the moon like a wistful candle,
I bounce against the wall my ball of memories
and hear it return within the silence.

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Some days I just feel like writing poetry. So it was tonight. So I started with an image and a feeling and took it where it went. The tough thing is making sure that all the connected images are consistant and do work within the poem, which I'm hoping I managed to do, but I'm not sure; I didn't give myself much time to mull over this one; I wrote it, then came back to it after an hour and made some changes. Even as I write this blog I'm still making changes, which may mean I'm posting this too early, but really all I want are for people to tell me what works and what doesn't, to put a star next to the lines they like and x-marks next to the ones they don't or something to show me how to improve. Some of the keys to a good poem in my mind are strong opening and closing lines. Originally (until a moment ago as I was writing this blog) the last line was

"and I hear it on the other side of silence."

But then I got to thinking that maybe the idea of a sound on "the other side of silence" is a cliché image or an overused image, or perhaps just an image that didn't really fit, that I'd only put it there because I'd heard it for the first time recently at the beginning of a book. So while I was thinking that, I changed the last line to what it is now and I think I actually like it more. And then (while I was writing this) I changed

"I bounce against the wall another ball of memories"
to
"I bounce against the wall my ball of memories"

What do you think? About the last minute changes I've made or the poem in general?
Either way, hope you enjoy it. Have a wonderful night!