Wordless, a Poem by Ken Seide

Wordless
by Ken Seide

She disagrees with him
wordlessly.
Wordless
because they’re pitcher and catcher,
daughter and father.

The aluminum clank of bats
thrown into cars,
the thud of trunks closing,
the bing-bing-bing-bing-bing
of gravel hitting SUVs swerving away:
even if she heard it all,
the two of them,
with the field to themselves,
would still be
wordless.

The level sun
pushes her shadow toward him,
makes him
squint
as he squats,
spotlights individual dirt particles on the mound,
makes her ponytail,
extruded from her Cardinals cap,
glow,
and her hearing aid
glint.

She agrees with his signal,
reaches back,
snaps forward
with a huff,
and the ball sails straight,
then takes a sudden dip,
and the sun,
a moment later,
dips, too.

Ken Seide is the pen name of a resident of Newton, Mass. His poems have appeared in SN Review, Midstream, Poetica, New Vilna Review, Voices Israel, Ibbetson Street, Muddy River Poetry Review, Kerem, Whistling Shade, and will appear in The Deronda Review and Button. His short stories have appeared in Poetica and Cyclamens and Swords.

Copyright 2014, © Ken Seide. This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.