• one free verse poem
• one haiku
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•
it is this time every year
perhaps coaxed by the warming breezes of spring
that a flood of recall is unleashed
smell of leather oiled in neatsfoot
clatter of wooden bats in a canvass bag
rattle of metal spikes on concrete
snug feel of the ballglove
tuggin’ on the cap
rollin’ the bill just right
smoothness of the cowhide sphere
grip on raised seams
click and clack of the catcher’s gear
cheers, jeers and sometimes tears
right foot on the rubber
excitement of taking signs
leg coiled for delivery
the hey batter batter
pop of the ball in the pocket
anticipation of an onrushing grounder
launching the throw across the diamond
shielding my eyes in a high sky
relief of snagging one in the webbing
feel of polished hardwood
crack of the sweet spot
exhilaration of connecting solidly
breaking down to first
taking a good lead off
soft slide into the base
the thrill of swiping second
the joy of crossing home
my teammates in a dog pile
sweet sweet exhaustion
knowing I left it all on the field
your arm around my shoulder
the pride in your eyes
root beer at the soda fountain
with the team after the game
riding home on the tailgate
of our old Edsel wagon
it is every year
at this time
that I think of all of this
that I think of you
how you wanted me to try pro
how the scout felt I had the arm
it is the path I didn’t take
you never made me feel sorry
thank you for these memories
thank you for your love
• • •
•
chalk lines laid on dirt
crack of white ash on cowhide
son’s smile is a joy
• • •
poem and haiku by: rob kistner © 2010
