Watch this kid. He throws the ball
across the plate, chases it to the backstop,
hurries back to the pitcher’s mound,
throws the ball again and again, shouting
A munchkin in a Yankees cap, she just stands there,
never swings the bat, shows no interest in hitting.
He keeps throwing the ball as if it’s his job
to be the angel that refuses
to let her be unappreciated or unloved.
I try to remember what it was like
to be learning the fundamentals—
love, heartbreak, sacrifice.
This kid makes all his errors
on the giving side, and I root for him.
This poem first appeared in Wild Goose Poetry Review, 2010.
Used here with the author's permission.