Douglas Brainard

Baseball

As I step up to the plate,
I cannot help but wonder my fate;
then the pitcher throws the ball.
on this cool evening in the fall;
next I swing, the bat and ball collide,
then I'm safe at second with a slide;
the team starts jumping up and down,
my once grey pants are newly brown;
I'm really happy with my hit:

I just remembered! I still have a poem to write for Lit!




[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]


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