The following is one of the strongest little pieces I’ve ever written. That’s my own opinion, of course. I can’t remember the exact context of the exercise that produced this piece, except I was in a poetry writing workshop at LSUE during baseball season of my son’s junior high school year. I can’t remember which international crisis was going on at the time, but in the exercise the workshop leader presented, something having to do with a flower or something like that, this is what I came up with.
He likes baseball
More than flowers
The picture here shows the grown-up son and now father coaching first base for Crowley High School seven years after the poem, where he teaches and coaches.