I’ll return some day
to Concord Avenue
the old house new
the backyard elm still green
Sunny, timeless afternoons
a rubber ball against the garage wall
and back, for hours
or swinging bats, shagging flies
long days of open windows, quiet sounds
that rise and fall like whiffle balls against the blue
Sun, ball, lunch, ball
or aimless walks around the block
past radios tuned to baseball
Sudden Sam on the mound for Cleveland
past sprinklers cutting circles in the grass
intense, wet backyard diamonds
Summer days
no change except occasional rain
the same new game
day after day
the ball
against the wall