ten brown little toes
impish snubby nose
he stands alone in the baked dirt field
no one else there
no one to care
enough to come out and play
throw the ball high
into a blue sky
pretending the bases alive
watch it tumbling down
a serious frown
on a face too old for its years
is Someone Else there?
could Someone Else care
enough to keep sadness at bay?
ten brown little toes
impish snubby nose
all alone in a baked dirt field
I love the rhythm you’ve incorporated into this, along with the rhyme. It is a sad poem, but very good.
Fun seekers always take drowner as a piece of mockery rather than a way of doing good deeds.
Nice write!