Baseball, please come back.
Surely, if you can play
in the winds of November,
you can play
in the snows of December.
You can wear an extra pair of long johns.
You can wear woolen gloves
under your leather ones.
You can even wear
a woolen hat (with you team’s logo on it,)
under your baseball cap.
You can hit a frozen rope of a line drive.
Literally.
There would be many more home runs
with the wind fiercely blowing out.
Once, an old poet,
recalling his youth, asked,
“Where are the snows of yesteryear?”
“Don’t worry,” I tell him, “they’re here.”
Play Ball!
THE POETRY OF THE GAME