(Poet's Note: This is one of my first poems. It's drawn from my love and obsession with softball. I've been playing for six or seven years now and I've grown quite attached to the sport. Without further ado, enjoy.)


Stillness is everywhere

Static softball players stand tall and alert at their positions

Determination shining in their eyes

Silence pervades the crowd as they anxiously wait

CRACK! The sound of a neon softball against a bat reverberates

A sign of the fierce game to come

The field is now alive with movement

Every player working together as a tight-knit team

Tossing the ball in a fast relay

Racing to get the softball to home plate

But time is quickly running out

The ball speeds through the air like an arrow

The catcher thrusts her mitt forth to receive the throw

The runner shifts her weight back and drops down into a slide

For a moment, time freezes

Then, the softball is caught in mid-air

Alas, it is too late

Fans cheer wildly in the stands

All real words lost in the chorus of screams

This is the last and final play

But even with this in mind, just remember that

Win or lose, the girls played a difficult, but good game

And they had fun while doing something they loved

(Background Information: This is the typed outline for a concrete poem, which is so ironically shaped like a softball bat. It's not supposed to rhyme and it is supposed to end with a message or strong point.)