Little League
David P. Miller That buzz-haired summer of ‘62, over the field of hollering coaches, another spiteful sphere hurtled through the kid-soaked air, softball aimed to shatter all twenty- seven hand bones, unless it chose to brain me, ball shot wildly toward my skull because I could not back away deep enough in the outfield to simply vanish after one week’s practice (where’d Miller go?) – so never mind how many smug bases I stole, ran hard and fast for home, that summer was the inning when the game collapsed no matter how the grownups blabbered about real boys. |
|

About the Author: David P. Miller’s chapbook, The Afterimages, was published in 2014. His poems have recently appeared in Meat for Tea, Ibbetson Street, Constellations, riverbabble, What Rough Beast, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, and Autumn Sky Poetry Daily. A Boston resident, he was a member of the multidisciplinary Mobius Artists Group for 25 years.