You receive me wild,
see me whole, quietly
calling again for my strength
I wonder sometimes
if it’s killing you
all my trust, pounding
hands, knees, hips, and back
is it enough knowing
I’ll never shake you off?
Today, Alex pitched to our son, almost 6, with an experienced high school catcher behind the plate. She struggled, but with the catcher’s help, she did fine. Over dinner tonight, she told me that she gets it now — the special bond that can form between pitcher and catcher.
After writing this, I’m convinced that I’m in love with either Alex or Buster Posey, whose masterful handling of the Giants’ pitching staff has given the team a 3-0 lead in the World Series. 
So excited for the Giants!!
Thanks for the love, Jan! What a season it has been…
The suspense is killing me!
I have resolved not to resolve the ambiguity — they’re both such gorgeous human beings, and poetry doesn’t make me choose.
Large laughs and smiles here, Tom. A or B. More laughs.
Dad
I’m tellin’ ya, man, as long as neither one forces me to choose, I’ll be fine.
Thanks for this, Tom – I’m looking forward to your first collection. Keep ‘em coming, please.
The collection should be a Simpson anthology — poems inspired by the Giants, Jazz, and Bills. It would be like the Psalms in its emotional depth and range.