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!
The Coming of the Toads 
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.
Happy Birthday to John ! A baker gone teacher —— a guy to admire .
Thanks, Dan (a teacher gone baker, and another guy to admire!).
Meantime, today, Happy Birthday, John!