and no matter how many colors of the rainbow
are captured by the t-ballers tee shirts,
they can’t chase away the drizzle.
Because Opening Day is always gray in Oregon,
the kids don’t know the difference.
They can’t imagine baseball under the sun,
cannot fathom the purpose of eye black.
So their sunbeam smiles blaze brightly
as the raindrops roll off their caps.
They shake off the gloom, dig in, play ball,
and root, root, root for the home team.
Because
the color of hope
is always gray
in Oregon.
2 comments:
is that last stanza an Obama slogan?
lol to christie's comment …
and forgive my personal bias, but i thought grey was always the color of EVERYTHING in oregon. ;)
despite being neither a baseball person nor a PNW fan, i liked this poem - nice alternation of "ay" sounds and "O" words, that opening pair that keeps playing out throughout.
i'd get rid of "brightly" and leave the line as "sunbeam smiles blaze" - brightness is inherent, more than implied already.
also (sorry), i think line 11 might scan better if you dropped "ball" (though that would mean losing the idiom).
thanks for making me care more about baseball writing than ever in living memory ! :)
Post a Comment