SPORTING GOODS

We used to pick up baseball bats,

In the store and hold them.

There was not enough room to swing.

The owner, patient,

Would let us pull them out,

To get the feel,

Weigh them, hold them up to the light.

Like wine tasting.

Bat connoisseurs,

Imagining what we could do,

With this one or that.

Put your hand on one,

And your brain came alive,

With the possibility of things,

Not yet accomplished,

But already done,

In our dreams.

Playing ball was a possibility.

We knew the names,

That had done it,

And savored them.

Felt our potential.

Sweet, young, full of hope,

Undiminished,

By anything.