Baseball
Life begins on opening day.
So say many baseball fans and writers.
Baseball leads into spring,
Round white balls promising
white crocuses.
Green fields brightening
the eyes.
Opening day without my partner
darkens the spring day.
No one to share a cheer
for the strikeout.
No one to share a groan
at the left-fielder’s error.
But I can imagine
his agreement,
his argument,
his “it’s only a game”
reassurance,
as I imagine tulips,
daffodils, lilies
sprouting in tree wells,
in parks, brightening
the city with color.
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