A day in too-early spring 
The sponge-field feels cold: 
Broken metal bat cold. 
So why? 
Every ball water-logged 
from yesterday’s rain
and this morning’s drizzle
and tomorrow’s chance of showers.

more insights into spring practice here:

Rumbling Stumbling Bumbling Fumbling: An American's Jittery Journey Through Life

Baseball in Bloom

 

A day in too-early spring

The sponge-field feels cold:

Broken metal bat cold.

So why?

Every ball water-logged

from yesterday’s rain

and this morning’s drizzle

and tomorrow’s chance of showers.

Every outfielder water-logged

from sprinkling grass as you run.

Arms sore after three throws—

some of it new this year

some of it every year.

Catch. Throw. Wait. Repeat.

Unless one gets past you.

One miss magnified a million,

but not like in a game—

you’ve got time.

Ghost runners, a chance to impress.

Dive. Slide. Collide. Repeat.

Soaked outfield, muddied infield—

you reconsider not wearing the windbreaker

along with the hoodie.

You breathe on your hands and they’re warm

for a few fleeting seconds.

Fading. Fading. Freezing. Repeat.

Then hitting, your hands numb,

your heart on vacation South,

where the season started before Christmas,

their arms already sore from overuse.

Distracted, coach says

you’re not shivering in the right place.

Low throw. High throw. Mental mistakes. Repeat.

One pair of socks not enough,

drenched jogging pants surrounding frozen bones,

sliding a mud-path through newly-greened grass.

And it’s perfect.