O Henry Elementary

I am in the second grade
A second time at my
Mother’s old elementary
School near the house
She grew up in with her
Physician father, mother
And brother Michael,
As I walk across the play
Ground at recess a young
Korean War veteran in a
T-shirt is teaching kids
How to hit a baseball,
It arcs high into the air
Crossing the entire
Playground then gracefully
Descends toward the
Ground I am standing on.
I watch its symmetry of
Flight as it grows bigger
And smashes into my
Eye crashing me to the
Ground out cold.
I wake to the veteran
Who fears he has hurt
A child while trying to
Do a good deed,
He asks if I can stand so
I rise and tell him I have
To get to my class.
My black eye emerges
By the time I get home,
I learn I am lousy at catching
A baseball and blessed with
Luck not to be worse hurt.
An attitude that has
Allowed me to walk
Away from many
Hurts seemingly
Unscathed
But wiser
For each
Recovery.