(excerpt)

HIGH FLY
“Are you good at this game?” Carrie accuses

“Sure,” I lie

standing there in right field

holding up my brand new glove

smooth as butterscotch

and stiff as an old dog’s leg

praying nobody hits one out to me

And nobody does

until

bottom of the ninth bases loaded

two away

we’re ahead by one

and uh oh (would you believe?)

here it comes

“Dare you not to drop it,” Carrie teases

Sun-blind I reach

reach

and thump (would you believe?)

here it is

in the tip-top of my glove

a snow-cone surprise

Then just like in a really good dream

there’s the cheering

and the hugging

and the squeals

And best of all there’s Carrie

with her startled eyes

and only her mouth catching flies