Friday, June 5, 2015


I'm remembering a game among
my brothers and father: with our barn
at my back, I watched my father's bat-

breaking homer from the catcher's 
position. The bat split, two parts cascaded
to the ground, and simultaneously,

the meteor shrieked to a seemingly
infinite height. I had two thoughts:
"Wow," and "I guess our game is over."

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