Poetry Friday: We (Lee Bennett Hopkins)

One, I just repainted our bedroom, which meant I emptied out the bookshelves, donated a bunch of books, and replaced them all on the ledge around the room. Even though I know of many new books I want to read, I’m now looking longingly at so many others that deserve a re-read.

Two, we’ve been going through some tough family times, and Lee Bennett Hopkins asked if I was familiar with his book, Been to Yesterdays (Boyds Mills Press, 1995). I certainly was, and had read a couple of poems from it again as I reshelved it, but I pulled out my autographed copy and reread it in its entirety that night. What a comfort and reminder that good follows bad and we survive awful things.

Here’s one of my favorite poems:

WE

played baseball every spring.

He taught me
every single thing
I had
to know–

how to bat
to bunt
to throw.

But
since
he went away
that day
the game
will never
be the same.

The bleachers,
the bases,
the catcher’s mitt
seem
empty

barren
now

like me

deserted
lonely
a
"Strike-three-
                      OUT!"

And
I realize
what
losing
is
all
about.

–Lee Bennett Hopkins