by Van
Swing!
watching — eyes:
perfect,
brown bat
— swingng,
above brown dirt,
(above my bare brown feet).
The ball pops!
Whistling seams widen my eyes;
I hear my Dad (jumping off the mound).
He’s really twenty thousand people
cheering for me,
and my home run
(that went all the way over the dugout).
I round the bases
and he still hasn’t fetched the ball.