I pitch my brother a tricky slow
curve that floats warbling past the pink
hibiscus and slides away under
the Chinese elm, but he goes with the pitch.
The yellow plastic bat darts
like a startled fish, and he sends
me back, back, to the wall –
and the white, holey ball
whiffles over the roof,
landing in the olive tree.
Happy Birthday, John!
Thanks, Dan (a teacher gone baker, and another guy to admire!).
Meantime, today, Happy Birthday, John!
Happy Birthday to John ! A baker gone teacher —— a guy to admire .
This is such a beautiful poem. John will have a very Happy Birthday… thanks to you. Peace and blessings. Michele
Thanks for reading and comment, Michele!
It’s my pleasure.