Noticing every little sound and image as a baseball
game participates without me.
Hearing bats crack as players hit balls, crowds
screaming into thin, cooled air without a trace of
hostility.
Families gathered around picnic tables, enjoying
one another's company.
Co-workers also, lingering, watching, talking to
each other as baseball continues to be played below.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem