April softens earth and hearts,
boys of summer begin their play,
of balls and strikes, bases and bats,
the child within is freed each day.
We lay aside both hope and fear,
to lose the self in play,
of teams which mist each city’s air,
like dust in a sunlit ray.
Such dusty rays like seasons past,
mix with dreams of future champs,
to shed joy’s light ’til October fades,
as earth turns hard ‘neath winter lamps.