Daily Poem: April 30

Today’s the last day in April, so this is my last daily poem. Thanks so much for reading all month. I’ll update this blog with any submission or publication news, and regular Tuesday entries will return sometime in May.

Lawn Sonnet



One day in the hot sun, in the long yard,
shade speckled rolling tract, under the mighty oak
dying slowly since a lightning strike, a tired
groove smoothed over, grass filled, we took

our dusty swings: A thousand hitters digging in
beneath the TV camera’s glow, settling like moss.
We were the hero in every story, every swing
a connected part to bodies—the silent toss—

All at once the reins are ours, the panicked
exhortations, shuddering grass and impossible green
turns—one, two—a gathering sprint thick
soled toward the waiting porch, careening—

Baseball is a history written in impossible angles,
dust in light, depressions in tranquil, inscrutable lawns.