Baseball Season
1.
Oh boy
he caught the ball
threw him
self into air
over green
running between
one white
base and the
next
2.
Night-time light
warm air smelling like
boys in the grass
The first poem was originally intended as a sestina but I obviously have a lot of work to do to get that going -- the second one is a non-traditional haiku -- not much apart, together I'm more hopeful.
I'm interested that W. S. Merwin got his second Pulitzer today -- I'm still not sure if I like his poems, but so many other people love him (Pulitzer number 1) and now love how he's such and old man (Pulitzer 2).
I shouldn't be so cynical during baseball season.
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