August

My son and his friends have been playing

a hybrid of kickball and baseball in the front yard again.

They've spent

the better part of the last 5 minutes

(and much of the summer)

arguing whether a neighborhood kid

was safe or out at second.  

No resolution seems forthcoming.  

Two fielders are near

to both rage and exhaustion.

My son is close to tears.  

One boy gets on his bike,

rides to the corner, then back.  

Screams of complaint continue.

He rides away again.  

A shaggy blond kid sits 

in a patch of dirt that serves as pitchers' mound.

He is normally a peacemaker.  

He holds his face in his hands.

School begins on Monday.

When they look back,

these will be 

the greatest days of their lives.

the view from a seat on the first base line.