© 2004  Taylor Graham

HOLE IN THE SKY

The day the baseball fell
into your hands

you loved that heavy leather orb
like a free-feathered bird,

a flash out of dusty
August sky,

the way it swooped
down to light

soft-sheen and still
in your gloved palm

as if your near-
sighted eyes had blinked

to see a miracle,
the kind

that never happens
again.

EMERGENCY ENTRANCE

The sign over the door
leaves us with so few other
syllables to say.

All poems are copyrighted property of Taylor Graham.

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