How hard is it to hit a great pitch thrown by an artist?
Swat at a butterfly bouncing in the atmosphere,
Carried by unseen forces, darting unpredictably.
Lift a greasy log of wood and hurl it to the stratosphere.
Catch a common housefly with chopsticks
As Miyagi did, but while wearing blinders.
Defend against a heat-seeking missile trained
To eschew rounded wood with smoldering wording.
Attract a polar opposite magnetic field, making metal
Flakes find their home run home within your swinging hands.
Do it all in less time than it takes to blink an eye
Or whisper words that your lover wants to hear.
There’s little challenge to smacking a slowly moving or
A stationary puck or catching a football thrown and floating
To your waiting arms or to catch and shoot a basketball
Big enough to float . . . but hit a small spheroid exploding
At the plate at ninety-eight or one that drops as if it’s died
Mid-air or one that curves almost out of sight?
Now that takes an athlete hungry for a meal,
A cat clawing at a prey speeding away,
An athlete overcoming odds, a worthy warrior
Primed for victory.