Bat Boy: A Poem

D.A. Powell, a Bay Area writer and educator, finds poetry in America's favorite pastime.

da powell
D.A. Powell
COURTESY OF UNIVERSITY OF SAN FRANCISCO

there were times
when he swung
I was sure
he’d hit me
other times
I wished for
such contact
he swung for
the fences
and dropped that
hot wood like
a blacksmith’s
hot horseshoe
my hands scorched
when I picked
up his bat
why couldn’t I
be the one
who hit that

This content is created and maintained by a third party, and imported onto this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io
Advertisement - Continue Reading Below
More From Fiction & Poetry