*photo courtesy of Nana
Oh wind
My wild weary wind
My comforting cool breeze
Pollinator supreme
Fill my billowing sails
Fly my flag in center field
My rampaging tornado
My hurricane
My mover of weather
My friend on breezy days
Where do you begin?
You begin right here
At this very ballpark
Nestled in a chilli bowl of
Late afternoon shadows
Of a breezy day about to end
I slip on my hooded jacket
Hood up
Zipped
Hands pocketed
To ward off
What? Who, Wind?
Cold hands but briefly freed
To applaud a walk-off
Home Run
For the home team
By #2
“Yeah! Jay!
You, my Wind,
Right here is
Where you begin!
tom tenbrunsel
Poet Laureate of Baseball
Author’s Note: Not only does this poem document the very origin of wind, but celebrates America’s favorite pass time, Baseball, where the wind is always in play. And the wind, mine and your wind, originate at the Asheville HS baseball field. To quote Harry Carry, “ It’s going, going, going! Gone! It’s outta here!” Stand up and cheer for the home team win-d!
Note the arrow pointing to the ball as it rises twenty feet high over the right center fence. Note also the flag furling breeze.
3/14/2025
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