Slow Pitch

 

Today is a day for slow pitches

An easy game of baseball

In the backyard

I don’t know what Englanders

Play in the backyard

Catch, I suppose

Can one practice cricket?

 

We used to play croquet

My father had to win every game

We learned to play it hard

Hard croquet, now that’s a laugh

A tempest in a teapot

But it set a pattern

 

Slow pitches, please

It’s Monday, and I’m tired

I left my glove back in the ‘60s

I want to play, I really do

Don’t leave in the bunker

Don’t pick me last, which is

Not a pick at all

 

Maybe I’ll stay on the porch today

Let someone else have the backyard

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash