Father's Day
June 18 2023
The smooth path of the ball,
rising as it falls
in a gracefull arc
as precise as geometry.
A practised step back,
extending the glove
with thoughtless ease.
And the comforting thwack
of a tightly wrapped ball
on supple leather,
the hard ball
cradled snugly
in the bulging sweet spot.
A perfect pocket,
broken-in
with loving care.
A game of catch,
a well-scuffed ball
tossed back-and-forth.
There's an easy rhythm to this
and no need to talk;
the body angling
arm unspooling
certain follow-through,
a flick of the wrist
on the nose.
They move apart a bit
as the game goes on;
longer throws
some friendly taunts.
Or how it's supposed to be
between father and son.
A backyard
of verdant grass
with that freshly-cut smell.
The old man,
a little out of practice
but accurate nevertheless;
after so many years
his muscle memory
has a mind of its own.
And the boy, eager but unschooled
concentrates hard
while yearning for praise.
But instead
is volleying the ball
against the garage door.
Overhanded hard
the tightly-stitched ball
rattles the aluminum,
a loud bang
each time it strikes;
a racket
that resonates up and down
the quiet street.
It feels good, he thinks
to make some noise.
And the harder he throws
the louder the sound.
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