It can be argued
baseball, besides being
America’s pastime,
operates as a giant metaphor
for different seasons of life.
Now rounding 3rd base
in my latter years,
I have had a good career
with some seasons
better than others.
I don’t know if I’ve hit .300,
but I still have some
all-star memories.
For example, books published
with the help of my friend, Sam
and my editor Mark, who
brought me up to the
major leagues of baseball publishing.
(See acknowledgements
in “At Bat III”)
I may be a singles hitter
in the batting order of poetry,
but there have been times
when I’ve gone four for four,
having stepped up to the plate
to deliver what I wanted to say.