April is National Poetry Month so I’m tackling the Writer’s Digest 2019 April PAD Challenge hosted by Robert Lee Brewer.
Today’s prompt: Write a catch poem. Catch a cold, a ball, a fish, or someone’s eye. <and/or> Write a release poem. Release your anger, a ball, a fish, or someone’s head (from a head lock while wrestling, of course).
It was summer’s lazy sprawl, a long string of hot days
heaped with play.
I may have spent the morning mixing cookies or meandering
the Heights on my bike or maybe shooting a game of PIG
on the speckled asphalt.
Eventually the hours led to this: bright blue uniform in a flower-dotted
field, a nervously-chewed mitt hungry for its first game-time catch.
I waited, swooning in the heat and praying for the splintered bench.
The backstop spread its lacy wings behind the striving batter and
there it was: a hit so clean and pure I didn’t have time
to fear. Thrust my brown leather into the June air and
seized the red-stitched hope.
It wasn’t until my kind, lanky coach bounded toward me,
face and arms open wide in glee,
that I realized I’d finally done it.
My mitt never knew such celebration.