Like the ancient Chinese poets

blackwalnut

Like the ancient Chinese poets

Hundreds of years from now
I am almost sure that no one reading this

Will understand what I mean about
The black walnut, how its fruit

Falls from the sky in August like baseballs,
All the season’s lost line drives and extra

Base hits, all falling in a few weeks of
Evenings, after the ballpark has shut its eyes.

Who will read it and know what I hear? The ten thousand thuds
Of things getting away, all concentrated

Into a night of continued falling, like all your
Life’s bad news dropping in one long sleepless

Dream. Because the black walnut poisons its
Own earth against other trees so it can soak up

More sky, creating more fruit that drops from
Higher heights and falls in a place of the night

That only a black walnut could fall and grow
Anything from. Maybe that’s what you will

Understand, reader, a thousand years from
Now, in your own evening of everything falling.

9 thoughts on “Like the ancient Chinese poets

  1. Lynne Burnett

    As a baseball lover (married to a former little league coach) I truly appreciate your analogy but am really blown away by your ending “in your own evening of everything falling”. I just love where your mind goes, Jeff!

    Reply
      1. Lynne Burnett

        It’s the smartest game of them all, according to my husband. I could tell from your description you were a big fan!

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