by Lyn Adaway

Created on: July 23, 2009

Baseball Kisses

Riding bicycles and

Toting their baseball gear,

Pint size squirts came

To the vacant lot.

With clumsy skills, like toddlers,

Batters missed many and

Some only bunted the ball.

Sounds of dismay echoed.

Players dove to the ground

And fought furiously.

Hands reaching out, grasping

Only clusters of grass.

Each season they'd return,

One year older and

A little taller, with

A few skills better.

I watched them play,

From my kitchen window.

Each season they'd

Endlessly improve.

Today, the ball flys

When the batter swings.

Their long legs run in

Fast spanning strides.

A strong powerful pitch

Sends the ball sailing

From outfield, spinning and

Traveling a straight course.

I quickly duck before

It breaks the window

And kisses the wall

Across the room.

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