summer wasn’t summer without baseball
out of the fields and onto my bike
glove and spikes
strapped on the rack
I race through the cemetery shortcut
straight to the diamond
to get away was to get away
from the house of rules
where the master
made sure it was okay to disappear
as long as the work was done
transformed into a collective whole
I become one of many parts
dreaming to be the hero
while trying not to make an error
examining the stitches
hand-sewn on my pants
as well as the fastball
playing music beneath my chin
april two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Xcellent
thank you CB ;`)
Nice summer memories!!
Thanks, Lola!
“the fastball playing music beneath my chin” — brilliant!
thanks so much, Jan 😀