by Mikhail Horowitz
Does a Baby Bull have Buddha nature?
Not even the wind,
fluttering prayer flags
in the abandoned grandstand,
can say.
Peanuts and popcorn
in your begging bowl,
a pinecone nestled snugly
in your glove.
How many times being hit by a pitch
until you gained enlightenment?
379 homers? Or
379 drops of rain
pelting a temple bell?
Photo by the author’s sister.