spring training
south of here the boys of summer are planting
the seeds of spring, thawing out their throwing arms,
weeding out errors, practicing and pitching,
stealing a little extra daylight each evening
before the month is out they will teach us, again,
how to tell time, how to make a moment last forever,
how to fail gloriously in this story of hope and heartbreak
of what almost was and what still might be . . .
there is gospel in those grandstands and forgiveness
in those fields—ye who are weary come home
Peace,
Milton
W H O A , D A D D Y !
We’ll hear the crack of the bat real soon in the ballparks. Thank you Milton.