Softball Game Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Watching a softball game through dirty windows,
looking as if on television, just one inning of
a friend's game.

Waiting for my son, I looked and saw people
running as if they were mannequins.

It was different than just a moment before when
I sat there on the bleachers, staring at people
right in front of me, hitting and running around
the bases.

It's such a friendly game and no one cares whether
they win - at least not much - as long as they are
all a team and having fun.