Farmer James’ Field
Farmer James’ Field
By Jon Clark Jr.
Out in the field down by old farmer James’
I recall with a grin the town baseball games.
The barley was dry and cracked was the walk
as my teeth ground persistent on a celery stalk.
My fingers with a rosiny goo met my cap
and the seat of my pants was all sticky with sap.
At third base I rocked from my heals to my toes,
while the dragonflies flew with a buzz past my nose.
This was my chance! My very first game!
No other feeling in life’s quite the same.
The prettiest girls from the town watched us play
and now was my chance to impress Jamie Grey.
I was eleven and she seventeen,
but I didn’t mind all the years in between.
Some people have said that love makes you blind
and while looking at Jamie, at my head the ball lined.
My body lay crippled in a red, bloody heap.
I exaggerate slightly… I just looked asleep.
When out from the stands rushed my mother in fear.
“Oh my poor baby!” cried my mom in my ear.
I felt so embarrassed as my face turned bright red.
So I left my eyes closed and thought I’d play dead.
But now I look back and reflect on the days
when down at third base I made all those great plays.
And out in the field down by old farmer James’,
I recall with a grin the town baseball games.
Jack C. Buck is the author of Deer Michigan and Gathering View. He lives in Idaho.