Fridays are for softball and poetry. At the same time.

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Shawn doesn’t usually have softball games on Friday nights, but tonight is an exception. I will set up my camp chair a little ways away from the bleachers, and I will keep Mowgli on his leash. But he will still bark when he sees Shawn on third base and help himself to the food left on someone else’s picnic blanket. He will almost dislocate my arm running after a ball and then try to climb up the bleachers– I have no idea how the height doesn’t scare him. I might cave and get a bag of chips and a Dr. Pepper. Every summer the concessions go to support some local church group, so its for a good cause. I will sit with my back to the sunset, watching the line of light traveling down the infield until the bright lights come on. The fireflies will come out one by one across the road. The kids will run by and pet Mowgli on their way to cornfield beyond the fence to find the homerun ball. And like the past few nights, I will be thinking about this poem as evening comes.

Have a wonderful evening and a happy weekend!


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