Excuse Me, Did You Catch His Name

A baseball player died today
and i realized that
  • i like people who believe stillness has soul
the inanimate
shaped by hand,
even mechanized-->the machine immortal too
in its mortal creation

This picther, he talked to the baseball
cushioned it with recognition, words, love
in a soft leather glove

And while my glass of wine
has no place on the stitched lips of a baseball
(or sad smile of a child's well-worn-soft-cuddle bear)
I know that somehow,
these "its"
they know as well as we
to mourn mortality

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