as a child i can remember him
slipping away from the house
into the shed, then reappearing
with a hand-made baseball bat,
one of the many he crafted long
ago for a forgotten ozark team.
they all shattered or cracked
from wear, and we believed
all were lost. but after he died
we found a bag inside the shed
under years of dirt and dust,
twelve baseball bats remained.
i keep one near my desk, still
smooth with the brand burned
deep in the wood like the many
memories of him upon our minds.
3 thoughts on “the baseball bat”
Such a beautifully written piece! ❤
The line, “brand burned deep in the wood like the many memories of him upon our minds.” was especially eloquent.
Definitely enjoyed reading this!
Thank you, Natalie. I appreciate your comment and am glad you enjoyed the poem.
You’re welcome, Anthony! ❤