The Perfect Life
In baseball there is an unwritten rule;
Whenever a pitcher is in the process of pitching a perfect game:
A game in which he has yet to give up a hit, has not walked a batter and no errors have been committed
His teammates do not talk to him; he does not mention it; and, everyone leaves him totally alone
For fear of jinxing the situation and being the cause of the end to his perfection.
Do not mistake my silence for contempt
Do not mistake my lack of self promotion for disdain
Do not mistake my isolation for loneliness
It is just that I am in the process of pitching a perfect life
I am in the late innings of my baseball game
I have been fortunate enough not to have been batted about by any opposition
I have not experienced the misfortune of having anyone walk all over me
And my mistakes have not resulted in someone advancing freely to another base
My perfect game is in tact
My only hope is – I have not jinxed that fact by writing this poem.
Batter up.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment