Someone Is Pitching My Heart Against A Brick Wall by Rob Plath

as a boy i loved
getting my baseball glove
& ball & going by myself
& pitching the ball
at the spray painted
strike zone on the brick wall
in the empty school yard
at 38 that boy feels like a ghost now
but he still exists
only his young wild arm
is pitching my heart against
the wall
it comes back to him in three
or four bounces
& he slams it into the webbing
of his glove a couple of times
& then releases it again & again
the stitching of my heart
loosening a little more w/every pitch
in the spectral schoolyard
of my mind