Breaking
He shot the speed out of me.
I am dirt again.
It did not matter what I was.
If I was more he would put it in check.
Baseball was hard.
But he was the shortstop that ran and
When learning to throw, I chose my elbow
and he would laugh, call it weak.
And he knew better than mom.
I withdrew my assertions
because there is no truth
when all that stands are poles,
extremes of north versus south.
Copyright © William White | Year Posted 2008
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