John Lawless Poet Free verse

The Game

THE GAME


We would gather slowly
“toss” the bat, choose sides,
use the “least battered” ball,
the only bat we had.
The girls played too,
chosen because they
could play….often before
some of us boys.  We
knew they were better
so it wasn’t taken personal.
The kid who wore the
Sears and Roebuck “Husky”
jeans played right field.
He was slow, he didn’t
get one of the treasured
gloves.  He batted fourth,
cleanup hitter.
He could really hit.
The “infielders” got gloves.
The infield was an almost
grassless, rock strewn field.
The bases were scratched
into the dirt with the bat.
The “game” lasted forever.
As kids were called away,
“substitutes” would take
their place.  Younger,
less experienced little brothers
and sisters, earning their time,
learning the game, touching
the heartbeat of summer.
The game would “pause”
for lunch, be put on hold
at supper, would be thought about,
talked about, dreamt about,
until …….



2/11/2017

submitted to – THE NATIONAL PASTIME – poetry contest

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Funom Makama March 6, 2017 at 10:56 AM This is wonderful. you have once again produced another masterpiece which is a true testament of your reputation in this wonderful community. Thanks a lot for the share.

Pashang Salehi February 28, 2017 at 3:02 AM What a game....

Constance La France February 18, 2017 at 7:42 AM John a wonderful nostalgia poem... I could smell the summer air, hear the kids excitement, well done John Lawless February 20, 2017 at 7:56 PM BW, as kids we would spend the day atop the hill playing baseball. Now the fields are mostly empty unless it is an organized, supervised, controlled, non-competitive, exercise in utility.