Tag Archives: baseball

I have a baseball in a box,

28 Jan

a leather pearl on my shelf.  The box is clear to show
red stitches and a smudge on Rawlings where the bat
greeted it with a rough kiss. 

I study it and conjure up the errant arc over first base;
the upraised arms and hands that would have a lofted relic.
HERE IT COMES! I cried, and grabbed it. 

Some guy exclaimed he too had touched the pearl,
but the usher arrived to check my fingers.
All too soon, the sting had quit the skin.

A baseball had graced me, had been sent my way,
so I keep it in a box, and I still pray
for off-field outfield hits and sudden sunny days.

Odds On Redemption

29 Mar

I’m thinking of a number
between one and ten
and whoever guesses best
gets the final brownie.
Clamor of voices desist!
Each make a choice
and I’ll reveal what I have hid.

I’m thinking of a hitter
who wishes to be better
than the pitch, not to press,
but to select one he can hit. 
He fights and works the count,
hoping for an offering
to come to him.

I’m thinking of a number
between one and seven billion.
This clamor of faces exists
to be cherished and lifted. 
I’m thinking of a kindness
given to the many, and all
the opportunity to guess.

Catch Again

6 Sep

Okay I’m ready, toss the ball.  Grounder.  Pop-up.  

Whoa, nice one!  Good arm!  
That knocked the dust off my mitt!

Whoops, crazy hop!  Get your glove up.
Switch sides, I’ve got sunglasses.  

Now you throw what I throw.  I want to do a jump catch.  
Hey!  That’s too high!

Dad, watch this—TRICKED YA!  
You didn’t even know I had a tennis ball!

Suppertime?!  Just one more, I mean one of each—
grounder, pop-up, fastball.

Do we have to go in?  Okay.  Hey Dad?  
When can we play catch again?