The Boy Who Bats Alone

Updated on January 22, 2017
Luke Holm profile image

Luke works as a middle school English, ELD, social justice, and mindfulness teacher in the sanctuary city, San Jose, CA.


First to Arrive

Stretching under fading light,
laces looped, tied up tight,
bat and ball hand in hand
preparing for the game tonight.

Flooded with false foresight
a boy prepares to fight despite
the field being a ghostly grandstand.
When will the team reunite?

On the mound, center spotlight
he practices pitching, deducing the height
and depth of the plate judged as strikeland,
a place surrounded by subjective sight.

Nearly freezing Fahrenheit,
he steps to bat, American’s birthright.
Imagining the cheering fans,
set to blast like dynamite.

Tossing the ball, prepared to smite,
he swung the bat with all his might
doling out fated reprimand,
and making the sphere a satellite.

He played alone into the night
no longer caring or giving a shite,
his greatest game, better than planned,
the sort of story people write.


© 2017 JourneyHolm


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    • Luke Holm profile image

      JourneyHolm 6 months ago

      Thank you for reading my poem, Jodah. Don't feel too bad. A poem was written about him after all ;)

    • Luke Holm profile image

      JourneyHolm 13 months ago

      Thanks for the review, Jodah! I wouldn't feel too bad for him, as being content with one's self is part of our journey here on this blue-green (soon to be blue-brown) planet. Have a great week, friend.

    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 13 months ago from Queensland Australia

      I enjoyed the story within this poem, Luke. I feel for the boy batting alone.