(“Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns..”-Homer)
FOR JEVAN
bat cracks!
percussive snap
of smooth ash
mitts thunk
hands clap
heads lift
up
white ball
orbits deep
sails leaps
onto green
kids perched
on wooden
bench
lulled to
sleep
scream like
banshees
adrift in dream
one hauls
ass count/
er clock wise
from base to base
dust blurs sight
dulled cleats bite
dry infield
dirt
hat now
gone
rounds third
tight
almost
out
of breath
this last
high peak
on his
mind
head down
sprints so
fast
despite
hurt shins
to home
plate’s
“safe!”
ecstatic
grin.
No comments:
Post a Comment